Leather & Lace
by mandorac
Summary: This is about Sam & Quinn set in early 1800s Virginia! I'd say it's an AU! It's based on genealogical research I've done regarding my family and you'll even see lyrics from the song in the story! Rated M for content! Reviews of the content welcome!
1. The Beginning

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 1-The Beginning**

**Franklin County, Virginia, June 1804**

It was a summery day in central Virginia, humid, the air heavy and thick, and barely a breeze. Sam was bored playing outside with his Feazel cousins...they were either much older than him or much younger and all he was doing was scratching the dirt with a stick. The black woman who took care of him, Sugar, was occupied with her younger charges who had somehow managed to cover themselves in honey. His Aunt Nancy Feazel, his late mother's sister who had basically raised him since his mother's death, was also busy, baking pies in the summer kitchen. He glanced at the woods lining the edge of the wheat field, wondering what he could find out there. At least there'd be shade under the trees, he thought. He was 8 years old, almost 9, and wanted to explore past the confines of the Feazel farm. He snuck off toward the forest.

_xxxxx_

At the farm that abutted the Feazel place, the Fabray homestead, 6-year-old Peyton and 4-year-old Quinn were also playing behind the farmhouse and were also bored and sweaty in the heat. A stray breeze finally blew through, and the rustling leaves of the trees in the forest behind the house caused Peyton to turn his attention to that unexplored area. Their mother was occupied in the house with her 3-year-old daughter, twin 1-year-old sons, and a new baby boy, so Peyton and Quinn were largely left to their own devices during the day.

"C'mon Quinny," he said, taking her hand. She followed her big brother willingly, past the tobacco plants, past the barn and crude shacks her father had built for farm help, to the edge of the woods. There, she stopped. Peyton didn't realize that and kept going until he felt her resistance.

"No Peyton!" she said, stubbornly.

"Maybe we'll see a fairy in the woods, Quinny!"

"A fairy?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes, like in your picture book...maybe I'll find a gnome!"

"What's a gnome?"

"Like a little elf...let's go!" Peyton said, now very excited at the prospect of meeting a gnome. He was pretty sure there were no fairies in the woods, though.

Slowly, she began to walk with him into the forest, looking about the tops of the trees for tiny ladies with wings.

_xxxxx_

Sam had made his way pretty far into the woods when he heard a twig snap. He stopped and listened. He had heard his older male cousins and uncles and grandfather talk about hunting and what they heard in the woods. Sam wondered if it was a raccoon or even a deer or maybe even a wild hog. He mentally kicked himself for not bringing his sheathed knife, a present on his 8th birthday from grandfather Feazel. He began walking again, more cautiously, and then heard the trickle of a running creek. Even in the forest it was hot and water suddenly sounded perfect. Thoughts of the snapping twig left his mind and he wandered off toward the sound of running water.

_xxxxx_

"I haven't seen not one fairy, Peyton Fabray! I wanna go back home!" Quinn pouted, stopped, crossed her arms, and planted her feet firmly on the ground.

"Hear that, Quinny? Water! Aren't you thirsty?"

A cool sip of water did sound good to the little girl, still hot even in the shade of the forest. Maybe the fairies stayed near the water, she thought and acquiesced to her brother's request.

_xxxxx_

Sam found the creek in short order. It was wide enough and shallow enough for him to shuck off his clothing and wander out into the middle and lay down on his back, letting the cool water wash over him. From that position, the trees blocked out most of the sun though a few rays would shine through every once in awhile. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the refreshing coolness. He wondered if his mother had ever played in this creek; his grandparents never talked about her. And then, another twig snapped and he heard a little girl giggle. He sat up, looking at the opposite side of the creek from which he came, where he had heard another twig snap.

_xxxxx_

"We're almost there, Quinny! It's getting louder now," Peyton told. She was tired of walking through the dense woods, holding her brother's sweaty hand. She could hear the water now, loud and clear, and wanted a drink badly. A couple more yards ahead of her, Peyton stopped suddenly, waiting for her to catch up.

"Look there, Quinny! A rainbow! Maybe that's where the fairies live!"

She stepped up next to him, excited, breaking a stick in the process and giggled at her brother's excitement. She looked down at the creek and saw the rainbow from the reflection of the sun's rays. She looked left and right for a fairy but only saw a naked blonde-haired boy lying in the water, now sitting up and looking around anxiously.

"Who's that Peyton?" she whispered, grasping his hand.

"I dunno, Quinny," he said quietly, now seeing the other boy. Calling out, he said, "You there! Who are you?"

Now, the boy in the creek froze, looking their way. He scrambled out of the creek to where he had dropped his clothing and pulled it on quickly.

"No! Don't go!" Peyton called after him and then ran down to the creek and through it. He had been commended by his father before on his quickness and now put it to use. He caught up with the wet boy, who was trying to get his boots back on, and grabbed him by the arm.

"Who are you? We live on the Fabray farm, right over yonder. My sister and I heard the creek and came down for a drink. Looks like you had a better idea," Peyton laughed. He was nearly 7 years old and was not only physically quick but mentally quick, as well. Quinn had followed her brother across the creek, stepping carefully on rocks and stopping at the edge to cup her hands and take a few sips of the crystal clear water.

"Uh, well, I live with the Feazels..." Peyton noticed the boy watching his sister. Sam thought he had never seen such a pretty blonde-haired girl. All of his girl cousins had mousy brown hair, somehow his hair had turned out a darker shade of blonde but was even blonder from playing in the summer sun.

"Well, what's your name?" Peyton asked him.

"Sam, Sam Evans..."

"Why you live with the Feazels if you're not a Feazel?"

"My mother was Elizabeth Feazel; she died when I was 8 days old...my father left me here to be raised by my Aunt Nancy Feazel and Sugar," Sam said, watching Quinn approach them.

"Sugar, the black lady? She's the momma to Patsy, the black girl on our farm, helping our momma with the babies," Peyton told him. Quinn sidled up to Peyton, squeezing up against him. "This is my sister Quinny. Quinny, this is Sam...he lives over at the Feazels."

"Nice to meet you," she said quietly, doing an extremely curt curtsy.

The wet boy smiled at her. "You too."

She stared at the new boy and quirked her head to the side. "You have big lips…like a fish!"

He put a hand over his mouth. No one had ever said anything like that to him. He blushed fiercely.

"How rude, Quinn! Apologize to Sam," Peyton admonished her.

She looked down at the ground and mumbled an _I'm sorry_.

"So, how did the water feel?" Peyton asked him.

"Felt very cool..."

"Can I dip my feet in, Peyton?" Quinn asked quietly.

"Sure...I will too," he replied.

"I better be gettin' back...Sugar won't know what to do if she can't find me," Sam told them, turning to head back.

"No stay Sam! We're hunting gnomes and fairies...you can help us," Peyton said.

"What's a gnome?" Sam asked.

Peyton laughed. "Quinny asked the same thing...it's like an elf. She wants to see a fairy."

"I don't know what that is either," Sam said, following them to the creek's edge.

"It's like a little lady with wings and she sprinkles magical dust on things," Quinn suddenly spoke up.

"Magic dust, eh? Sugar says magic is the devil's work," Sam said.

"It's just in her picture book that Patsy reads to her," Peyton said.

"Oh, okay," Sam responded, wondering why the little girl was fascinated by fairies.

The three of them spent the rest of the day exploring the woods between their two farms, never finding neither fairies nor gnomes. The boys did find a couple arrowheads and Quinn some pretty yellow wildflowers that she picked to take home to her mother. By the time they parted ways as the sun was setting and Sam could hear Sugar's frantic voice calling his name, he was pretty sure he loved the blonde-haired girl running off with the wildflowers. He had never met anyone like her; her hair was golden, her skin porcelain, her eyes wide and hazel, sometimes green, her laughter infectious, even if she did tell him he had lips like a fish. To him, _she _was a fairy, magical.

Over the next couple months of that hot summer, the three would meet at the creek most days. One day, Quinn brought her picture book to show Sam pictures of fairies and gnomes.

"Do you really think you'll ever see one?" he asked her, flipping through the pages.

"I believe I will," she answered politely. He watched her dance off in a clearing where the sun was beating down, wondering how she got to be so pretty.

One day, they were playing, chasing each other near the creek. The shadows picked up and the woods darkened. Before they knew it, rain was pouring down in sheets, drenching them. Sam ran for the Feazels; Peyton and Quinn ran for home. They decided, when they met again, to try to construct some sort of shelter. It took a few days and the Fabray's toy wagon but they managed to pilfer slabs of discarded boards, nails, and a hammer. Sam and Peyton worked diligently and put together a crude shack. They even fashioned three small benches.

Quinn brought one of her dolls to play with, and Sam laughed at her, making her cry.

"Only babies play with dolls," he had said, laughing. When she began to cry, he was confused by how he felt, why he had been deliberately mean to her.

"I'm sorry Quinny," he said quietly. "Your dolly is pretty."

She sniffled a bit and it was forgotten the next day.

Peyton had a habit of bringing books to the woods and he found that Sam, a year older than him, still had trouble reading. So, they worked on reading together when it was too hot to do anything else.

Some days, Sam would show up in the woods after breakfast and his chores but the Fabrays would not appear the whole day. He missed his friends. He missed Peyton helping him learn to read and he missed Quinn's sense of humor. Sometimes he missed seeing her ponytail; he would always give it at least one tug.

By the end of August, they knew their way around the woods like experts. They had seen many different woodland creatures and began bringing old rotten apples to leave for them. By that time, most of the creatures were aware of the children and the food and began to expect it.

On the last day of August 1804, Sam met his friends at the creek. Peyton and Quinn took off their shoes and dipped their feet in the cool rushing water. He had news to share with them and didn't feel like dipping his feet in the creek that day.

"My pa lives in Stokes County, North Carolina. He wrote that he wants me on his farm now that I'm 9," he told them. Peyton was now 7 and Quinn 5.

"Really Sam? You really have to go?" Quinn asked him.

"Yep, tomorrow."

"Sammy, we'll miss you!" Quinn threw her arms around him, surprising him a little but he hugged her back.

"I'll miss you too Quinny..." he mumbled, letting her go. He was not going to cry in front of his friend Peyton.

"Yeah, Sam, we'll miss you...hope ya like it on your pa's farm," Peyton told him. Sam knew already he was going to hate it. His father had remarried and he had half-siblings there.

"Maybe you can write us?" Quinn asked him, tears building up and running down her cheeks. That day, her hair was high in a ponytail, and he remembered with every shaky breath she inhaled her ponytail would bob up and down, the bright blue ribbon tied around it trembling.

"Maybe..." he said, kicking at the ground with the toe of his boot. "I best be going..." He looked once more at Quinn Fabray and ran back through the woods to a large oak tree where he'd carved the initials QAF (he'd found out her middle name was Amelia) inside a heart, sat down and cried.

**Stokes County, North Carolina, September 1804**

Sam's grandfather Feazel drove the wagon that took him to his father's farm. Sam's Aunt Nancy joined them for the trip. The house resembled the Feazel farmhouse, so Sam thought maybe he'd feel at home there. A man was sitting on the front porch of the residence, whittling, when Sam and his grandfather and aunt arrived. The man stood up and walked out to meet the wagon. He was blonde-haired like Sam and looked angry. Sam would come to find out that that was his usual look unless he was talking to or about his other children.

"Pa?" Sam asked, already afraid of the man.

"Aye. Jacob," he said to grandfather Feazel and Jacob Feazel nodded. "Nancy," Aaron Evans said and nodded. Whereas Aaron Evans blamed Sam for his first wife's demise, Jacob Feazel blamed Aaron Evans for his daughter's death.

Sam looked back to his grandfather and aunt, begging with his eyes not to be left in this hostile environment. He grandfather looked at him sadly and nodded toward Aaron.

"You need to go with your pa, boy," he said gruffly, not looking at him anymore.

"Grandfather?" Sam asked quietly, wanting only to be back on the Feazel farm where he could meet his friends in the forest every day.

"Write your grandmother as you can," his grandfather said.

"Samuel, I'll be sure to write you. I'll never forget you," his aunt said quietly, hugging him to her.

Sam mumbled _okay _and hopped out of the wagon to pull his bag from the back of the wagon. Once his grandfather saw he was clear of the wagon, he whistled at the horses, turned the wagon around, and headed back to Virginia.

Sam stood there until he couldn't see the wagon anymore. He turned and realized his father had returned to the porch and now a woman had joined him there and was snapping beans. He walked up to the porch.

"It's nice to see you father," Sam said quietly, stepping up on the porch. His father looked at him funny.

"The missus will show you your room, son," Aaron said, practically spatting the word _son _out. The missus sat down her bowls of beans and led him into the house and up the stairs.

"You'll share a room with Robert and Amos," she said, sighing. In the room, there was a crib and two small beds, one dresser, one chair. He saw no toys or books. Amos was asleep in the crib; he was still a baby. Sam took the empty bottom dresser of the drawer for his pants, shirts, and socks. Downstairs, he found a little girl playing with an even younger boy.

"Hi, I'm Sam," he said.

The girl looked up at him blankly. Later, he learned she was Jane, age 4; Robert was 2 years old; and Amos was 1 year old.

At supper that night, Aaron outlined Sam's chores.

"Will I be attending school, father?" Sam asked.

Aaron looked at him with the same blank stare Jane had earlier. "No time for school, boy," he said finally.

Sam finished his meal and went to bed, exhausted and sad.

_xxxxx_

As the years slowly slipped by, Sam learned his routine of work from sun up to sun down. As he got older, the chores got tougher and he found himself lean, muscular, lithe. Even though his father and Jane never completely warmed up to him, they finally became at least cordial. He also found that even though his father doted on the other three children Sam was still the oldest and that held some sway over them. He received regular letters from Aunt Nancy until one in 1811 that stated she had married a man by the last name of Watson and was moving north. That was the last he heard from her.

Robert had the same reading problem as Sam so Sam was able to help him with his reading, like his old friend Peyton had helped him. It also gave Sam a chance to see what he had missed in school by helping Robert with his studies.

One thing he did learn on his father's farm was his ability to build things. He could look at a pile of wood and figure out how to fashion it into a chicken coop, a dog house, a chair. He was often requested at barn raisings once he turned 13. One such barn raising was at the DeWitt farm on the other side of the county. The man's daughter annoyed him the whole day; she was like a boy with two braids and breasts and freckles across her nose, wearing overalls. She wanted Sam to show her how to build something but he was occupied with the job he was sent there to do. Finally, the barn was done and he was trying to make a clean getaway when he heard a girly voice calling after him. He made the mistake of looking back, and there she was, Elizabeth DeWitt, chasing him down.

"Sam! I didn't get the chance to say goodbye!" she hollered at him.

"Goodbye Elizabeth," he moaned.

"Call me Liz, everyone else does," she said, smiling a somewhat toothless grin.

"I need to get home or pa'll have my hide," Sam said, snapping the reins, goading the horses.

"Bye Sam!" she waved after him.

**Stokes County, North Carolina, June 1812**

Sam was sitting on his father's front porch listening to the older men talk about an upcoming war between the States and Great Britain. It had been a long day for him on the farm, working since the sun had risen. He really just wanted to rest but had to attend a barn dance that evening and probably dance with a girl named Elizabeth of whom he was fond but mostly just as friends. She was tomboyish and lived on the other side of the county but her father knew his father and they arranged it. Actually, it had been a long 8 years on the farm. He had hoped to get better acquainted with his father but that had not happened. His new family was really all his father seemed to care about; Sam was treated like an unpaid farmhand. Sometimes, he'd catch his father looking at him oddly, then he'd look away quickly and be short with Sam for no good reason when he doted on Sam's half-siblings.

The dance that night was boring for Sam. He had to dance all the waltzes with Elizabeth. She still insisted he call her 'Liz' though he heard no one else call her that. She asked if he remembered the barn raising he had helped at. He sighed and said yes, he remembered. Toward the end of the evening, when he was hoping to make his escape, she kissed him on the cheek...in front of both their fathers. Now, he basically had to marry her. He did run off then and was later told by his father that he and Mr. DeWitt had set up the date for him to marry Elizabeth due to her brazen act of passion.

In a month, he turned 16 and ran away to join the North Carolina Militia to fight in the War of 1812, thinking he had avoided marrying Elizabeth DeWitt.

She learned of him leaving his father's farm and wrote him while he served his time with the militia on the eastern coast of North Carolina. She was the only one to write him during those long lonely days and he found himself eventually looking forward to her letters, her handwriting, the scent of her perfume on the paper. He got to see the Atlantic Ocean for the first and only time in his life and there he remembered the summer of 1804 and the creek in the woods and those two kids he played with, the blonde-haired girl specifically, but by that time he couldn't recall her name.

_xxxxx_

The War of 1812 ended in 1815, and Sam made his way back to Stokes County, North Carolina, to find nothing had really changed at his father's farm except for the fact that he was now respected somewhat for serving in the militia and he didn't have to work as hard on the farm. He was bored, though, and finally sat down and wrote Elizabeth that he had returned and he wanted to see her. He was getting ready to turn 19.

Within a week, he had received a response from Elizabeth DeWitt's father, stating he had permission to court his daughter. Sam rode his horse to visit her.

In the years he had been at war, Elizabeth had grown from a tomboy to a fashionable young lady and Sam was smitten with her. They courted through 1815, mainly by letter, until he finally asked for her hand in early 1816. Her family was discussing traveling west to the state of Kentucky in the spring so Sam followed them. In late June 1816, they were married in Logan County, Kentucky. He finally called her Liz willingly.

_xxxxx_

Those were happy days for Sam. He got along better with her family than he did his father's family and Kentucky was new land for him to explore. From her father, he learned to master his carpentry skills and was busy making furniture for their tiny home when she came down with a fever. There were no doctors for miles in the Kentucky wilderness, and she died the day after Sam turned 20. Her last words to him had been _stay with me stay_, and he had stayed, holding her hand. He buried her under a flowering dogwood tree near their cabin, a tree she had loved and had sat under to read before falling ill.

For days afterward, he rarely left their cabin. He had gathered anything personal of hers and returned it to her family; seeing the items was unbearable for him. Though her family was nearby, he felt very alone. He had never known his mother, lost his wife, and really had no connection to his father. He knew he was suffering from a deep sadness and the only way he could deal with it was to get away from it. He had to get away from seeing that dogwood tree every day, reminding him of the vibrant young girl he had buried there, the young girl who happily had talked to him about starting their family soon. He finally decided to return to the Feazels in Virginia; he had not been there since leaving in 1804. He informed the DeWitts of his plans, loaded up his few belongings, and rode his black stallion Clyde northeast toward Virginia.

**Franklin County, Virginia, September 1816**

"Why Martha Hudson, I do declare! That is the prettiest gown I've ever seen on a girl!" Quinn said to her close friend, admiring the pink silk dress with fancy embroidery and lace. They were preparing for an evening party at the Bell farm. Quinn had arrived to the Hudson farm earlier in her buckboard.

"This old thing, Quinn Fabray? I should think not! Your gown, though, is the most beautiful..." Martha said, eyeing the pale green silk gown Quinn was twirling around in. It was plain and simple, no fancy stitching or lace. In her hair, though, she had had Patsy thread in green ribbon that matched the dress. Her golden hair was now long and in curls for the party. She wanted to look her best for Finn Hudson, Martha's older brother.

She slipped on the matching pale green slippers, the entire outfit a gift from her father on her 16th birthday.

"Oh! Wear these!" Martha said, grabbing a pair of green glass earrings from her vanity and clipping them to Quinn's earlobes. "Perfect! You will certainly be the belle of this ball!"

Quinn giggled. "Do you think Peyton will ask to dance with you?"

Now Martha giggled and blushed. "I don't know...do you think Finn will ask you to dance?"

"I certainly hope so!"

"Girls!" Ida, the Hudson's house slave in charge of the children, hollered upstairs. "You's best be getting on over to da Bell place! You's miss all da good eatin'!"

Quinn and Martha looked at one another and snorted. As if they would eat one morsel in front of the young men they hoped to court.

They gave each other one more once-over before running downstairs to meet up with the rest of the Hudsons to ride over in the big wagon to the Bell farm.

_xxxxx_

At the Feazel farm, there was an air of excitement. Sam had been back for a few days but was still very saddened over the loss of his wife, refusing to talk about what had happened. Most days, he read or helped on the farm, built things from wood. One day, he wandered out to the woods, wondering if those kids still played there and then he remembered that was 12 years ago, they weren't children anymore. He remembered all their special pathways and even found the little shack they put together though it was dilapidated at this point. He made his way to the Fabray edge of the woods and saw their house. It was quiet there, no activity at all unlike back at the Feazel place. He turned and walked slowly back to that farm.

One of his younger cousins, now 15, asked if he would be attending the barn dance at the Bell farm that night. "Maybe a dance would make you feel better, cousin."

He smiled and remembered his late wife kissing him on the cheek years ago at a dance and how he had ran from her, mostly out of embarrassment.

"Prob'ley not, Sarah, but thank you kindly for asking. I'm sure you'll have a nice time," he said quietly, going back to his book.

He briefly considered walking to the Bell farm down the road but again decided against it, choosing instead to stay at the Feazel's to read and update a journal he had started. On his way from Kentucky to Virginia, the loneliness nearly did him in. At one stop, he bought a journal and pencil for a dime and began recording his thoughts daily, whether it be about nature, weather, people he met on his journey, how he felt about his father's family and his mother's family, the loss of Elizabeth. He even wrote about playing in the forest as a young boy and the blonde-haired girl and her brother and how she had cried when he told them he was leaving for North Carolina. He thought for days about her name. What had it been? He remembered it was unique, not Mary or Hannah or Catherine or Sarah, something different but it just wouldn't come to him. Now, back at the Feazel's and writing in his journal about a barn dance that he didn't feel up to going to, it came to him..._Quinn Amelia Fabray_. He went outside and even in the dark found the oak tree where he had carved her initials so long ago. He ran his fingers over the letters and the heart and wondered why things couldn't be simple like they were 12 years ago.


	2. Coming To Terms

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 2-Coming to Terms**

**Franklin County, Virginia, September 1816**

The atmosphere at the Bell farm was festive. As they neared the property, Quinn and Martha could already hear the fiddler playing a jig, and their feet were tapping in the wagon. Martha's older brother, Finn, the object of Quinn's interest, was driving the wagon. They had had to bring Elizabeth Sinclair with them and he let her sit on the seat with him. Quinn kept hearing him call her 'Beth' and it was enough to drive her crazy.

From all outward glances, it would appear that Quinn and Finn were courting. He had called on her several times since her 16th birthday, usually with his sister Martha though. None of the other boys who lived nearby interested her like Finn did. He was tall, muscular, tan in the summer, friendly, and smarter than most of the lads. She had totally set her cap for him, and she was pretty sure he was interested in her too.

Just the other day, she had brought him a lemonade and sat down next to him on the bench in the front of her house and her hand brushed his. He had kind of smiled and blushed, pulled his hand away, but _still_ they had _touched_! She knew that meant something. Her mother's youngest sister, Anne, was courting a man named David Harter and that was what she had told Quinn, when they touched you it was almost the same as saying _I do_.

She stared daggers into Elizabeth Sinclair's back on the drive over to the Bell's. What did he see in that mousy-haired skinny _girl_? She was a year younger than Quinn and Quinn considered herself a _woman _now since she had developed breasts and a tiny waist and began getting her monthly. Of course, she had tried to talk to her mother about that and was sent to her grandmother, Laura Palmer, a midwife. Granny Palmer told her what to do during that time of the month (stay in bed) and why it happened (to have babies). She hated it, not because of the mess it created but because it kept her confined to a bed during her 'lady days'. She wanted to be outside and active, riding horses, helping in the garden, painting (her newfound passion), just walking. Sometimes she'd lie about her time of the month so she could get out but her mother usually found out and into bed she went for a week.

On one walk, she decided to go into the forest where she and Peyton had played for many hours over the years. Her earliest memories were of playing in the woods and a sweet blonde-haired boy they had met there. She recalled he was related to the Feazels and stayed there because his mother had died right after his birth. She remembered Peyton scolding her for saying he had big lips. She wandered that day close to the Feazel farm, wondering what had happened to him, and came upon a giant oak tree carved with her initials. She almost missed seeing them since they were carved at about the height of her ribcage, as if a small child had carved them. She smiled, wondering if the blonde-haired boy had done that. She couldn't remember his name for anything though.

A jolt in the dirt road brought her back to the present and Finn was steering the wagon down the drive of the Bell's farm. She could now smell the barbecue and couldn't wait to get out of the wagon and have her supper. She grabbed Martha's hand and leapt out of the back of the wagon as soon as Finn had it stopped. She didn't miss the fact, when looking back at the wagon after running past it, that Finn was helping Elizabeth Sinclair out of the wagon, offering her his hand! She decided then and there she'd dance as many dances as she could with the other boys who clamored for her attention and maybe that'd get Finn's attention.

_xxxxx_

By the end of the evening, Quinn had danced at least twice with every boy there who was acceptable for her to dance with (not too young, not too old) and from what she could tell Finn had danced every dance with Elizabeth Sinclair. The fiddler announced the last waltz of the evening and she noticed Finn sitting alone, no Elizabeth in sight. Quinn felt like a cat pouncing on a mouse when she made her way over to him. She was just brazen enough to do this, she thought.

"Why, Mr. Finn Hudson, you don't seem to have a partner for this last waltz. Would you like to share it with me?" she asked as sweetly as she could.

He looked around, presumably for Elizabeth. Not seeing her, he smiled at Quinn and stood up, knowing it would be highly impolite to refuse her gentle offer. He offered his arm, and she took it, following him to the dance stage. Inside, she felt butterflies...she had held his arm! Now, he had one arm wrapped around her waist and was holding her hand. She felt faint.

"I see you have had a lovely evening, dancing with every boy here," he said cordially.

She smiled; he had noticed. "And you with that Elizabeth Sinclair! You need some variety in your life, Finn Hudson, and dancing with one girl only will not provide that for you!"

"I like dancing with Beth..." he said, almost apologetically.

"Really now? You don't like dancing with me?" she purred.

"Of course I do, Miss Quinn! How dare you suggest otherwise!" He could play the game just like everyone else. In a way, he wanted to confide in someone about how he felt for Elizabeth Sinclair. Not one of the other boys; they'd just laugh. He had always considered Quinn Fabray a likeable girl, smart, pretty. He decided to tell her and see how she responded.

"My heart belongs to Miss Beth Sinclair, Miss Quinn," he said quietly.

She stopped moving to the music and stared at him. "What?"

He repeated what he said and felt her stiffen. "I see then, Mr. Hudson. You have a most pleasant evening, then," she said curtly and turned on her heel and left the barn. Once outside, she ran and at a safe distance she cried.

_xxxxx_

The night of the barn dance Quinn was sleeping at the Hudsons with Martha. Martha had no sisters and considered Quinn and Quinn's younger sister Kate as surrogate sisters. In the morning, there was a shocking discovery made.

Finn Hudson had not returned home after the dance.

They later found out that Elizabeth Sinclair had not gone home either.

The consensus was they had eloped in the nearby town of Rocky Mount. Finn had just turned 18 so they needed no parental consent.

Quinn Fabray was devastated. She asked one of the farmhands to hitch her horse to her buckboard, she hugged Martha who was also crying though happy tears, and rode toward her father's house.

For the next couple weeks, she claimed she had lady issues and did not leave her bed.

_xxxxx_

"Guess what Sam? The preacher from Bedford will be here this Sunday! You must come hear him at the revival...it's just what you need," Grandmother Feazel told him excitedly, reading from the letter from relatives in Bedford, Virginia.

He was sitting at the kitchen table, finishing dinner, when she told him. She was right, maybe that was what he needed.

"I think I will attend. Thank you for telling me about it," he said quietly.

"I have something for you then," she said, scurrying off to the sitting room of the house. He heard her rummaging around and then she returned with an old leather-bound Bible. She handed it to him. "It was your mother's."

He looked at it, suddenly feeling a connection to the woman who had given birth to him 20 years ago. She had held this in her hands, he thought solemnly, opening it slowly. He traced his finger over her handwriting, spelling her name in the front, _Elizabeth Ann Feazel Evans_. His grandmother squeezed his shoulder. "She asked for it as she died. She held it and you as she took her final breaths..." He then realized he was not the only one hurting due to loss. She had never shared these details with him.

"Can you cut my hair before the revival, grandma?" he asked quietly. He had let his beard go also; he might need a shave.

"I think that is a dandy idea, Samuel!" she said, ruffling his shaggy hair. "You're due for a shaving, as well."

"What was she like?" he asked her.

"Your momma? Oh, she was quite the pistol, let me tell you! As was your father. He was disowned from the South River Monthly Meeting for using foul language. That did not sway her decision about him, though. They were married by a Baptist minister in Bedford in 1794. They did love one another quite passionately. When she died, I think your father didn't know what to do, especially with you. He asked us to raise you until he got remarried or you were old enough he could handle you better."

"He remarried Mrs. Candler in 1800, though, and he didn't send for me?" Sam asked.

"I think he was busy raising his other children," she answered, watching the expression on Sam's face darken.

"I see," Sam said, not truly understanding his father's decision. "Can you show me where she's buried then?"

"Of course, son. She's in our family plot, next to the west field. Let's go now; I haven't been to visit anyone in weeks!"

She hated to see the young man so disheartened. As a boy, he had reminded her very much of his mother and sometimes it was hard for her to get close to him. Now, he looked more like his father, and she was doing whatever she could to get to know him better, knowing he had lost his young wife and was very saddened by it. His mother asking to hold him one last time nearly killed her. It had been an extremely difficult delivery, Sam being born feet first, and his mother had bled to death. He had never asked how she died and no one had ever told him. Grandmother Feazel remembered how Sam's mother had smiled at him weakly as she held him and that old Bible that had been a gift from Aaron. She had whispered, "You are loved, Samuel." She passed away then, her mother and Aaron Evans in attendance. He took Samuel from her arms, weeping, and handed him to Grandmother Feazel. He left then, returning days later to tell the Feazels he was going back to Stokes County, North Carolina, where his father lived, and he'd send for Samuel.

Walking to the family cemetery, she remembered that night vividly. She had lost young children before and that was difficult but losing her grown daughter was harder than anything she could imagine. She had delivered many babies during the course of her life but could not save her daughter, nor could the doctor they sent for.

At the cemetery, there were several field stones marking old graves. Even Grandmother Feazel couldn't remember who was buried where. Sam's mother had a headstone, though. "Your grandfather made that for her." She was buried next to her father and two infant siblings.

It was carved and said "Elizabeth Ann Feazel Evans 1772-1796". He sat down in front of the headstone and ran his fingers over the carving.

"I think I'll stay here a little while, grandma," he said.

"I'll be at the house, son," she said and walked back.

He sat there quietly for a bit, not really knowing what to say. He took a deep breath and said what was on his mind.

"Grandma gave me your Bible. She said you were holding it and me when you died. No one has ever said anything but I feel like I'm the reason you died. Maybe that's why pa avoided me for so long. I kind of know how he feels though. My wife died a month ago and I really miss her. We had only been married a short while but I had known her a long time. I think you would've liked her. Maybe you've met her by now. I should probably tell you I haven't been to church since she died; I just don't understand why God would take her from me, probably what pa felt when you died. I'm going to church this Sunday though to ask God why, why he left me alone in this world. I wish I would've got to know you, ma." He stopped there because the breeze picked up and blew his long hair all around. He stood up and returned to the house.

_xxxxx_

"You're going! And that's all there is to it!" Quinn's mother yelled at her. Quinn knew she was in trouble; her mother _never _raised her voice.

Quinn was presently lying in her bed, feigning illness. "I just don't think I can, mother. As wonderful as it sounds, I just ache too badly to get out of his bed!"

"You have been in that bed since the Hudson boy ran off with the Sinclair gal! It's time to get over it. You're pale from no sun, and it looks like you're wasting away, Quinn Amelia! You will enjoy this revival; it's just what you need!"

Quinn grumbled and rolled over to avoid her mother's accusing glare. She knew she needed to get out. It was early autumn, one of her favorite times of the year. The thought of running into Martha Hudson though just made her want to die. Of course, her brother Peyton was at the Hudson's constantly it seemed and always brought back news of Finn and Elizabeth's elopement and their housekeeping in the town of Rocky Mount.

"I have something that might cheer you up!" her mother said, running down the hall to her bedchamber and then back to Quinn's. Quinn's interest was piqued now.

"Your father hates to see you so sad, Quinny. He bought you this in Richmond!" Her mother has holding a large white box and brought it to Quinn's bed to open it.

It was a new gown of course; her father always bought her clothes to cheer her up. This one was beautiful to Quinn. It was a brown satin with black velvet piping and black embroidery over the bodice with slippers and a bonnet to match.

"Oh mother! He has outdone himself this time!" Quinn lifted the gown out of the box by the shoulders, smiling. "I'll attend the revival on Sunday."

_xxxxx_

Quinn rode with Peyton and Martha Hudson to the revival on Sunday. Her new brown gown fit her like a glove. She had her mother fix her hair in a bun and wore the brown bonnet too. Martha had mentioned that Finn and Elizabeth might make an appearance at this revival since _everyone_ wanted to hear the preacher from Bedford. As they approached the meetinghouse, Quinn pinched her cheeks and bit her lips to add some color to her pale complexion. Peyton helped Martha out and then went around the buckboard and helped Quinn down. Peyton then left the girls to go to a group of young men. Quinn scanned that group quickly for one Mr. Finn Hudson but did not see him. A young man in a black suit a little too big for him caught her eye; he must be new as she didn't recognize him.

James Martin ran up to them. "Miss Quinny, may I please have the honor of sitting next to you during what is sure to be a wonderful revival?" He was too eager for Quinn's tastes but she nodded, allowing him to sit next to her. He grinned widely and ran back to the boys; she could overhear him saying _she said yes!_ She sighed quietly. Of course, Peyton would be sitting between her and Martha as would be customary since he and Martha were only courting and Quinn acted as chaperone. She stood with Martha and the other girls their age doing little more than gossiping. She kept scanning the gathering crowd for Finn but did not see him.

_xxxxx_

James Martin ran back to the group of young men.

"She said yes! She said yes!" he spoke excitedly, shaking the other boys' hands. Sam stayed close to the group, leaning against a tree, as if he were a part of their group but really only so he didn't appear to be alone. He clutched his mother's Bible to his side. He was given a hand-me-down suit of his late grandfathers, black in color, and wore a white linen shirt beneath the jacket. His grandmother had trimmed his hair though it was covered by his black hat and Sugar had shaved his blonde beard and moustache. He felt naked without the facial hair. A young man joined the group, and he heard him called 'Peyton'. He suddenly became more interested in what the boys were talking about.

"Your sister said _yes_, Peyton!" the Martin boy told Peyton.

"Oh, she did now? To what, your hand in marriage?" There were many guffaws from the young men.

"To allow me to sit with her during this revival!"

"Oh, I see. So, I'll be sharing the bench with you, then?"

"Most certainly! Maybe in the future you could chaperone us if I'm so lucky as to court Miss Quinn," James Martin said, obviously very proud of that thought. More muffled laughter from the boys.

_Peyton. Quinn_. The names were familiar to Sam. _Which one is Quinn?_ he wondered, looking at the group of young ladies on the other side of the dooryard. They all wore bonnets and were close together, talking and giggling. One girl in a brown dress, though, stood back from the crowd and he noticed how she kept looking through the crowd, as if she was waiting on someone who wasn't there.

The church bell rang and Sam hung back, watching who James Martin walked up to. The crowd was thick that Sunday due to the popular preacher visiting. He lost sight of the Martin boy. Once inside, it was standing room only and he stood at the back of the room, looking for James Martin. The ladies removed their bonnets and then he saw it…the golden hair, next to James Martin.

His thoughts raced as he watched her from the back of the room. Surely that was not the same little girl from the woods from years ago. The lady in the brown dress was a beautiful young woman, though she looked distressed or worried. He watched as she ignored James Martin and kept scanning the crowd in the meetinghouse.

Then, it happened. He was staring at her and her eyes stopped on him. Those hazel-green eyes…he'd know them anywhere.

_xxxxx_

Quinn kept waiting on Finn and Elizabeth Hudson to appear outside the meetinghouse. She basically ignored the girls her age who were clustered around each other giggling and gossiping. Oddly enough, she felt like _she _was being watched but didn't see anyone looking at her except for James Martin. Then, the church bell rang, signaling the beginning of the revival.

She moved quickly to the door behind Martha Hudson and shuffled in with the rest of the crowd, hoping James Martin would get lost in the shuffle. However, he attached himself to Peyton, and they made their way to Quinn and Martha's bench. James sat down next to Quinn at a respectable distance as she and Martha were removing their bonnets.

The room inside the meetinghouse was full to capacity with men standing along the walls and in the back. Quinn kept looking around for Finn, looking at all the men standing. Her eyes skated over the young men lining the back wall and passed over a blonde-haired man taking his black hat off. She looked back at him and he was staring at her. The lips! She knew the lips of that boy. Lips like a fish.

She turned her eyes to the front quickly. James was talking incessantly to her; she was not paying one bit of attention to him. Could that be that boy from the woods? It sure looked like him. She glanced around the room again quickly, looking for any of the Feazels.

The preacher approached the pulpit. He was Alexander Campbell. He was a young man preaching about baptism and conversion being the choice of the individual. He was very charismatic and was making a name for himself in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Virginia.

The congregation was very motivated by the sermon. Quinn could not concentrate on it, her mind on Finn Hudson and the blonde boy standing in the back of the room. Sam stood at the back of the room, holding his mother's Bible, listening to Preacher Campbell. He decided he needed to speak to the preacher after the service and ask him his thoughts on death; he wanted answers as to why he was motherless and a widower at 20 years old. The preacher was espousing how Jesus Christ always watched over you, God should be your solace in all your difficult times…Sam wondered why he couldn't find solace in the Lord in his time of need, why he questioned God for taking his mother and wife from him. The excitement in the air was palpable all around him, yet he was crying. Maybe baptism was the answer he searched for. His wife had been baptized in Kentucky; he promised her he would but never did before her death. Maybe that was what he was missing. His faith had been badly shaken since the death of Elizabeth. He needed something in his life, some hope that tomorrow things would get easier and be better but every day seemed harder than the day before it.

As Preacher Campbell's sermon wound down, he made his way down the center aisle asking anyone who needed to to come speak to him outside under the poplar tree. He'd be there as long as someone needed to talk to him. Sam fell in line with nearly everyone following him out to the dooryard. While waiting in the long line a small child in front of him began crying; he realized the child was separated from his parents. Sam set his mother's Bible down on a bench and picked up the child and made his way through the crowd trying to find the child's parents.

_xxxxx_

When the sermon ended and everyone followed Preacher Campbell to the tree, Quinn sat still on the bench. She wanted the quiet reverence of the meetinghouse to pray. She sent James Martin with Peyton and Martha and told them she'd walk home.

Once those three left her alone on the bench, she slyly looked over her shoulder to see if the blonde boy was still in the back of the room but no one was there. She sat on the bench, alone in the room, in the blessed silence finally and bowed her head to ask God why he sent Finn Hudson away from her.

_xxxxx_

Sam found the parents of the missing child farther ahead in line than he had been. He left the boy with them and moved back to the end of the line. After an hour, he finally shook hands with Preacher Campbell. He explained how he had lost his mother as an infant and then his young wife.

"Why would God do such a thing? I'm pretty sure I haven't done anything to spite the Lord ever," Sam said. "I'm so lonely without Elizabeth. I've even stopped turning to God for comfort." He hung his head, ashamed of himself and hurt by his own admission.

"So you have lack of faith son, that God did these heinous things to _you_, to hurt you. And, boy, I feel your pain, I do. Though it is difficult now to understand why, God does these things for a reason, I feel. I ask that you read Psalm 27:14. I feel your heart is broken, boy…pray to Jesus Christ to heal it." He gripped Sam's arm and urged him to pray with him, which Sam did while also trying to remember the Bible verse. Then, he realized he was empty-handed.

_xxxxx_

Finally, Quinn felt she had prayed, and cried, enough alone in the meetinghouse. Even after all her fervent praying and crying, it still was not enough to make Finn Hudson appear. It was quiet outside; she figured everyone had seen Preacher Campbell. She affixed her bonnet back over her hair, put on her gloves, picked up her Bible, and headed for the door.

Sam was headed back inside the meetinghouse, hoping he could find his mother's Bible. He rushed up the few steps and into the open door just as Quinn was about to step out of the door. They ran right into each other. Since he was moving quickly he pushed her backward and wrapped an arm around her waist to keep them both from falling down. In an instant, he realized his body was pressed up against hers. She gasped and then he also realized who he had just run into.

_xxxxx_

It happened so fast she wasn't quite sure what had hit her, or ran into her, from outside. When she opened her eyes, she was staring into a white linen shirt, a man's chest only mere inches away from her eyes. His weight had pushed her back and he had grabbed onto her so they both wouldn't fall down. Once everything stopped, he didn't move and neither did she.

"My apologies, miss! I am so sorry!" He finally released his grip on her and stepped back.

She didn't speak but looked up at him. It was the blonde-haired man from the back of the room, only now he had his black hat on, sitting at an angle due to their collision.

"My mother's Bible…I left it here and I need to retrieve it. I can't lose it," he stammered.

She finally found her voice. "Of course. Shall I help you look for it? Where did you have it last?"

The sound of her voice caused him to pause and just stare at her. "Is your name Quinn?"

She stared back at him. "It is. And how do you presume to know me?"

"I'm Sam, Sam Evans…from the forest…" he said. _She probably thinks I'm a gnome_, he thought, biting his lip. "You said I had lips like a fish."

_He remembered! Oh no!_ she thought. "We looked for fairies, correct?"

"Yes, we did. Your brother Peyton? Is he here? How are you getting home?" Sam asked her.

"I told Peyton I would walk. I wanted some alone time after the crowd left here. I always feel closer to God when it's peaceful," she said. "Your mother's Bible…what does it look like?"

"Small, brown leather, worn…"

They both moved away from the foyer and looked up and down the benches.

"Is this it?" she called to him, holding up a small leather-bound Bible. He came over to her to inspect it.

"Yes! Yes, it is! Thank you so much! This means a lot to me," Sam said, clutching it to his side again.

"You're most welcome…Sam…" Hearing her say his name made him smile. He had not smiled a real smile in weeks, it seemed.

"May I walk you home?" he asked her.

She did something that other girls would never do…she reached up and righted his black hat on his head.

"Now you may…" she said, smiling back at him.

**A/N: I am indebted with gratitude to the fabulous author ReadingTooMuch! Not only has this person taken the time to review my work but also brainstormed with me to come up with the title for this story. RTM brought the song Leather & Lace to the table and it's _perfect_!** **I'd like to thank RTM publicly for encouraging me to put this story into words and share it with all of you.**

**Regarding the lyrics from Leather & Lace, they'll show up in different chapters (there was one line in chapter 1!). Think of it like Easter eggs hidden here and there! :D**

**Also, I don't own any of these characters; it's completely historical fiction. I've tried to make this as close to real as possible but a lot of it is my imagination. I shouldn't say _completely_fictional; some of this story comes from genealogical research I did about my own family. Names changed to protect the innocent, e.g. Sam Evans and Quinn Fabray are NOT my great-great-great-grandparents yet they're doing an excellent job at filling the roles. :) The parts about Sam's mother dying when he was 8 days old? That is true (in my family history). The part about Sam's first wife dying young? That is also true (in my family history).**

**And please, don't hate on me if I err in describing something historically. Since none of us were there do any of us _really_ know what happened then? And, like RTM told me, it might be written somewhere that "this is how they did things" but people are different and found different ways of living and doing so I reiterate this is largely fiction and a lot of my imagination. Anyway, please enjoy!**


	3. Reacquainted

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 3-Reacquainted**

**Franklin County, Virginia, September 1816**

"After you, miss," he said, bowing deeply and allowing her to pass in front of him. He held onto his hat and his mother's Bible tightly as he heard the swish of her skirts pass by him. He was still in a state of shock over her straightening his hat, a totally forward action for a lady of that time as he was considered a stranger to her really. He straightened and watched her move toward the door. He then snapped out of his trance and followed her. Walking down the path to the road, he kept an appropriate distance from her since they had no chaperone and were obviously not courting. He could not even ask to carry her Bible for her or offer his arm. She knew these customs, though she tended to buck them sometimes.

"So, Mr. Evans, it's been quite some time since our days of playing with the woodland creatures in the forest, hmmm?" she began.

"Yes, miss, it's been several years actually," he replied.

"Enough of the 'miss' business, call me Quinn please," she said. "You moved to North Carolina, correct?"

"Yes, mi-, uh, Quinn, to my father's farm in Stokes County," he answered.

"And are you just visiting the Feazels again?" she asked.

"No, I'm living with them. I'm looking for work to earn my keep there," Sam said. "I'm surprised Mr. Martin did not wait on you to escort you home properly."

"Mr. Martin is a boy, Mr. Evans. He is only an acquaintance of mine, a friend of Peyton's. And I told him to go on, not to wait on me."

Her attitude was amusing Sam. He knew she could be no more than 16 years old yet she was acting like an old maid for some reason, the way she spoke and carried herself.

They walked in silence for awhile, listening to the leaves rustle alongside the road cutting a swath across Franklin County. A crossroads was coming up; they both turned right and continued on.

"Who were you looking for today?" He was dying to know.

She turned and looked at him abruptly. _How could he have known I was watching for Finn?_ she thought angrily, mainly angry that she had been caught and that Sam was brash enough to come right out and ask her.

"Mr. Evans, I was certainly not looking for not one soul!"

"You can call me Sam…if I'm calling you Quinn, you can call me Sam please," he said, ignoring her last statement. She was practically stomping down the road now. "Will you do me a favor?"

She stopped. "Yes?"

"Since you have such a lovely voice would you mind reading Psalm 27:14 for me? Preacher Campbell told me to read it…"

She looked at him, wondering why he wanted her to read to him, but then cracked her Bible open to Psalms and found the verse.

"_Wait on the Lord: Be of good courage and He will strengthen thine heart; wait, I say, on the Lord_," she read.

"Thank you Quinn," he said quietly.

"Why that verse?" she asked, starting to walk again.

"It's hard to talk about…"

"I understand…I _was _looking for someone but it's hard to talk about," she said, stopping at the gate of her father's property.

He stood there transfixed by her eyes in the sunlight. He didn't want their walk to end but knew he couldn't invite himself to stay. His thoughts were interrupted by the crack of a ball against a bat.

"Oh, those boys!" Quinn said, glancing over toward the sounds of cheering. "Always playing!" She could see Peyton, her father, her twin brothers, and her baby brother and a gaggle of cousins playing some sort of ball and bat game and running around.

"What are they playing?" Sam asked, watching them with her.

"I'm not sure," she said, looking back at him. "Would you like to come watch them? I'm sure they'd even let you play if you ask nicely." And then she laughed and his heart melted a little.

"I'd like that, Quinn, thank you," he said, following her through the gate.

Quinn led Sam over to the group playing the ball and bat game.

"This is Sam Evans, a relative of the Feazels. He walked me home after the revival," she announced to the group. He tipped his hat at them, not knowing what else to do or say.

"Hey, aren't you the kid from the forest?" Peyton asked. "I remember you!"

Quinn slipped away to the house to change into a more appropriate dress. Peyton was talking to Sam and when Sam glanced around Quinn was gone. They asked him to join in on their game, so he took off his jacket and hat and rolled up his sleeves. They explained the rules to him and he took the slab of wood used to hit the cowhide-covered ball and took his position at the plate, they called it.

Quinn changed into a simple cotton work dress and grabbed an apron and her sun bonnet from the kitchen on her way back outside, knowing she'd be expected to help with the Sunday meal. Outside, she saw Sam swinging the bat and knocking the ball out to one of the men in the pasture. She watched him run from plate to plate; she wasn't even sure of what the game was but watching his lithe body moving smoothly around the field, the sun beating down on him, his shirt a little undone at the top, she thought she had never seen a boy quite like him, young man actually. She even felt a bit nervous returning to the field, which was definitely not like her at all. She sat down at a table in the shade with a pitcher and lemons and began slicing them and squeezing them to make lemonade.

He noticed she had returned, now in more casual dress, working at a table in the shade, her sun bonnet hanging on her back, a few wisps of blonde hair loosened from her bun and dancing on the breeze. He turned his attention back to the game at hand, not wanting to be caught staring at the girl.

Eventually, the game ended and dinner was ready. Sam was invited by Peyton to stay for dinner, which he gladly accepted, enjoying his time with Peyton and his brothers and also to see Quinn, even if he didn't speak to her much more.

The men and boys sat at the table as the women served them; the women would eat later. Quinn approached him with her pitcher of lemonade.

"More lemonade, Sam?" she asked kindly.

"Please..." he said, handing her his cup. "You sure make some sweet lemonade." He just blurted that out and felt like a dunce after he heard himself say it.

She smiled. "I think that's the sugar's job."

The sound of an approaching carriage caused everyone to look toward the drive. James Martin had come to call on Quinn. Sam saw Quinn's fleeting expression of distaste at the sight of the boy and averted his gaze elsewhere.

"Quinny! Mr. James Martin is here to see you!" Quinn's younger sister Kate said in a singsong voice. Sam glanced at Quinn's sister; she was gazing at James Martin as he approached the group. Sam knew then who had eyes for James Martin and it wasn't Quinn Fabray.

"Welcome Mr. Martin! Won't you stay for dinner?" Thomas Fabray, Quinn's father, said happily. He liked the Martin boy for his eldest daughter, not realizing that his younger daughter was the one in love with him. He felt the Martin boy would be a good replacement for the Hudson boy who had broken Quinn's heart.

"Thank you sir but we just finished dinner at our place. I had hoped to take the Fabray sisters for a ride in my new carriage, with your approval of course," James said.

"Certainly! Peyton may ride along. That's a mighty fine looking carriage you have there, son," Mr. Fabray said, walking with James to inspect the new buggy.

Sam finished his dinner quickly, knowing he needed to return to the Feazels soon. Also, he didn't want to see Quinn Fabray go off gallivanting with James Martin. He didn't understand why; he just didn't want to witness that.

He stood up and thanked Mrs. Fabray for dinner. He retrieved his jacket and hat and began walking toward the gate. Quinn had been busy with cleanup, hoping to find some excuse to get out of going on a carriage ride with a boy she had no interest in. She looked over at the table; the menfolk had all returned to the field, but she saw a lone figure walking down the drive to the gate. He had left without saying goodbye to her.

_xxxxx_

James Martin was driving the buggy like a lunatic, Quinn thought. He was sharing the front seat with Peyton; she and Kate were clinging to one another in the back seat and screaming. Peyton and James thought it was thrilling, goading the horses on faster and faster over the hilly countryside.

Finally, Quinn had had enough. She was pretty sure if he didn't calm the horses someone would wind up getting their neck broke.

"Really James Martin! Must you drive this carriage like a wild man?" she shouted from behind him.

"Quinny...this is fun! You oughtta ride up front!" her brother responded.

"I'd like to be taken home now, Mr. Martin," she said sternly.

That got him to pull on the reins and slow the horses down. He turned to look at the frightened girls. "Certainly ladies," he said dejectedly and turned the carriage around.

Riding at a respectable pace was fine for Quinn; she could finally relax and watch the sun set and turn her thoughts to the blonde boy Sam.

_xxxxx_

Sam returned to the Feazels, to a very anxious Sugar.

"Mister Sam, you's really need t'let ole' Sug know when you's be gone da whole day!" Sam thought she must still see him as a young boy of 8 years old, not a 20-year-old man.

"Yes'm..." he mumbled, heading to his room.

"Where'd you be?" she asked.

"The Fabray farm...I walked Miss Quinn home from the revival..." He knew that'd get her going.

Her eyes rolled back and she started praying, he didn't know about what.

"Dat Miss Quinny is headstrong, Sam! You best keep yer distance from her!"

"Really, Miss Sugar? She seemed awfully sad at that revival, said she was waiting on someone who didn't show up," Sam said, hoping for more information.

"Prob'ley waitin' to see dat Hudson boy 'n his new wife! What a scandal!"

Sam hit the nail on the head.

"Scandal, Miss Sugar? Do tell..."

"Dat Hudson boy 'n Sinclair lass done run off 'n got hitched! In da middle of da night, no less! Miss Quinny had her cap set for dat boy," Sugar spilled the details.

"What about James Martin? He came callin' on her today," Sam asked.

"Oh! He jus' as bad as the Hudson boy! Miss Kate has her eye on him..." _That was more than obvious_, Sam thought.

"Don't you worry, Miss Sugar! Miss Quinn is just an old friend of mine, her brother Peyton is too..." he said, climbing the ladder to the loft that served as his sleeping quarters. He took off the black suit and pulled on trousers and sat on his bed with his journal.

_Went to a revival t'day to hear Preacher Alex'r Campbell speak. Talked to him after, told me to read Psalm 27:14. Met an old freind there, Quinn Amelia Fabray, the girl from the forest. Walked her home. She read the bible verse to me. Seems she needed t'read it for herself as well. Haven't smiled since Liz passed, until t'day._

He visited his mother's grave that evening and talked more about how the Fabray girl made him feel more like himself, more alive, than he had felt for the last couple months.

_xxxxx_

"What do you think of James Martin, Quinny? He seems really taken with you," Kate asked her sister that evening in the bedroom they shared.

"I think he is quite the odd fellow, Catherine Ann! Also, he bores me," Quinn replied.

"Do you think he'd ever court me?" Kate asked in the darkness.

"You are only 14 years old Kate! I'm not sure how old he is, 17 maybe? Just ask him! Maybe he'll stop pining after me then!"

Kate gasped. "You can't be serious, sister! I cannot ask a boy to court me! Especially a boy who has his eye on you!"

Quinn sighed. "Fine, then. I'll point him in your direction but don't say I didn't warn you!" She rolled over and tried to sleep but still thought of Sam Evans.

**A/N: I decided to post this tonight since it's so short. From here on out, the chapters get a bit longer. Also, you'll notice in Sam's journaling his dyslexia comes out a little, thus words are misspelled. Thank you for all the insightful feedback! I've loved writing this story so far. :)**


	4. Fabray Fine Goods

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 4-Fabray Fine Goods**

**Franklin County, Virginia, October/November 1816**

Some time had passed since the day of the revival. Farms were in full swing with harvesting. Sam was finding work as a day laborer on neighboring farms when he didn't have to help at the Feazels. He had received a letter from his father, detailing going's on in Stokes County, North Carolina, regarding his farm and family. It had been sent originally to Logan County, Kentucky, and the DeWitts forwarded it to Virginia. He wrote his father back that he was now at the Feazels in Virginia and that he had lost his wife in August. As he wrote the words, he felt it was getting somewhat easier to accept what had happened to her, to him. Though, some nights he still awoke with a start, drenched in sweat, from his dreams of her last moments. He tried to find work every day since that seemed to keep his mind off his past. He then received word from one of the Feazel cousins that Thomas Fabray needed a carpenter on his farm.

_xxxxx_

"Put on your green silk, Quinny; we're going calling," her mother said to her one day in late October.

Quinn sighed and put down her mending. Her brothers' socks constantly needed mending and it seemed that was all she ever did, at least during the cold months.

"Where to today, mother?"

"The Feazels...Grandmother Feazel has been ill."

"Yes, ma'am," Quinn replied, going to her room. She said a quick prayer for the Feazel matriarch and then wondered if she might catch sight of Sam Evans.

Kate was in their room, reading. "Mother says we must go calling this evening," Quinn told her.

Kate sat up. "Where to? What am I to wear?"

"She told me to wear my green silk; why don't you wear blue or black? Grandmother Feazel is ill," Quinn said, pulling her green dress from their armoire. "I need you to tighten this corset too."

Kate looked at her funny. Usually, her older sister could not care less how tiny her waist appeared, especially since Finn Hudson was out of the picture.

"Certainly, sister," Kate got up and took her position behind Quinn and started tightening the laces of the corset.

"Tighter Catherine!"

Kate sighed, wondering what her sister was up to.

_xxxxx_

Quinn and Kate stepped into the carriage with their mother, Miranda Fabray, at the reins. Quinn carried a loaf of fresh bread; Kate had corn pudding. Their mother had sliced ham and a pumpkin pie for the Feazels. The three women said very little on the drive to the neighboring farm. The farm appeared quiet as they pulled down the drive. Upon knocking on the door of the residence, though, they were greeted by a very spry-appearing Grandmother Feazel.

"Welcome Fabrays!" she nearly shouted, allowing them entrance. "What's this you bring?"

"Patsy, Sugar's girl, told us you had fallen ill; it's only a simple meal," Miranda told her.

"Fallen ill? That silly girl! I had a sneezing fit!" she laughed. "Thank you kindly for the foodstuff. Why don't we have lunch? I just put coffee on!"

The Fabray ladies sat down and had lunch with the food they brought to the Feazel household. Quinn and Kate, though, drank tea, not coffee, an edict from their mother. The house was otherwise quiet, everyone else working in the fields. The only ones who lived with Grandmother Feazel were Sam Evans; her youngest son Phillip, who was only 3 years older than Sam; her granddaughter Sarah (her mother died during her birth and her father, Robert Feazel, had run off, never to be heard of again); and the domestic help, Sugar.

"Where is Sarah?" Miranda asked.

"She should be in school but she's in bed, that girl has more complaints than anyone I know!"

They talked for a bit more about harvesting, the revival, new babies in the area, the recently betrothed and married, and the recently deceased.

There was a commotion at the rear of the house and men's tired voices filled the home.

"Please remove your boots outside, boys!" Grandmother Feazel hollered. Quinn was pretty sure there was never a quiet moment in that house.

"Yes'm..." both men responded.

"We also have company, boys. Please come say hello!"

They shuffled to the doorway separating the kitchen and sitting room. Sam was more than shocked to see Quinn Fabray sitting in his grandmother's home.

"Good day, ladies," Phillip said, returning to the kitchen.

"Yes, good day," Sam nodded, locking eyes with Quinn before following his uncle. The ladies nodded and smiled slightly.

In the kitchen, Sam and his uncle put together ham sandwiches.

"Those Fabray girls sure are pretty," his uncle said. "The older one most certainly."

Sam grunted in agreement. He was still in mourning and it wouldn't be appropriate for him to even consider courting another young woman. Still, he had enjoyed the momentary glance.

To Quinn, Sam definitely looked different that day. He was in his work clothes and was dirty and sweaty and had a scruffy beard. He looked older to her that day than when they ran into one another at the revival. He also looked surprised to see her there. She was glad she had come calling to the Feazel farm.

Kate elbowed her in the ribs. "Did you see how that boy looked at you?" she whispered.

"I saw no such thing," Quinn replied, smiling to herself.

_xxxxx_

In November, Quinn was resting in her room, being that time of the month. Her sister was off with James Martin apparently; Quinn had put a bug in his ear about her. Since Kate had turned 15 their father allowed her to go with James Martin if Peyton and Martha Hudson were in attendance. Quinn was bored...she was tired of reading and tired of writing, so she had set her easel up next to their single window that overlooked the forest and tried to paint a scene. She even found that uninspiring with the trees bare of their leaves and a dusting of snow on the ground. She recalled those days in the forest with Peyton and tried to recapture that scene from her memory.

She heard her father's voice from downstairs, talking to someone else. The house had been quiet so she was pretty sure it wasn't one of her brothers. She crept out of her room, crouched down at the banister, and peered through the balusters. She could see her father ushering someone into his office yet he stood there talking about his farm and some new venture. He then turned to his office and Sam Evans followed him in! She couldn't believe it. She was crouching just above them, in nothing but her chemise and a robe, obviously not supposed to be out of bed. It was made even worse when he glanced around him at the sprawling foyer and then up the staircase. He saw her. She gasped and ran back to her room.

_xxxxx_

Sam finally made contact with Thomas Fabray about the carpenter position he had heard about. On a chilly Saturday in November, Sam Evans made his way to the Fabray residence, more of a plantation home than his grandmother's farmhouse, and knocked on the door. A young black girl answered and let him in, telling him to hold still and she'd call for Mr. Fabray.

He waited patiently until Thomas Fabray appeared. They shook hands and made small talk about the weather, the harvest, the Feazels. Thomas Fabray was not a large man, just average, and had thinning strawberry blonde hair. Sam thought Quinn's little sister took after him. Thomas was somewhat boisterous but jovial and led Sam to his office to discuss the carpentry position. As Sam followed him toward the back of the house, past the staircase, he glanced up and saw her watching from the shadows. Then, he heard a quiet gasp and saw a flash of white and she turned and ran, then a door shutting softly.

_xxxxx_

Quinn shut her bedroom door as quietly as possible. She thought her breathing would give her away and get her into all sorts of trouble with her father. She finally calmed down enough to return to her easel, but she couldn't concentrate on her painting. Was he here talking to her father about the carpentry work? Her father had had the great idea to hire a young carpenter to create pieces of furniture or whatever was needed really and then he'd sell them in a larger town, such as Lynchburg, maybe even Richmond. She knew that he planned on having the carpenter live and work on site. Didn't Sam say he needed work? Harvesting was over now so the day labor had dried up and he probably did need some job. She was mortified that he had seen her, though.

Sam was a bit flustered upon entering Thomas Fabray's office after just seeing the man's eldest daughter in what appeared to be a robe on the landing of the staircase. He had to refocus his thoughts to the questions Mr. Fabray asked of him and his carpentry skills. When Sam mentioned learning carpentry from a man named DeWitt in North Carolina, Mr. Fabray claimed to have known the man and was familiar with his work, and if Sam apprenticed under him then Sam's skills must be up to par, as well. After an hour-long discussion, while Mr. Fabray drank several glasses of bourbon, he led Sam out the back of the house, past the summer kitchen and gardens, to one of several barns. In that barn, really a workshop, were all the carpentry tools that Sam could ever dream of working with. Thomas Fabray asked him to create something and then he'd decide if he'd hire him. Sam started a fire in the stove for warmth and began working.

Sam put together a frame for artwork and carved intricate patterns into all four sides. The actual piece was easy to construct; the carving though was where he excelled. Thomas Fabray had not returned to the barn, so Sam fashioned a coat hook as he had not seen one in the large home. Thomas Fabray returned some time later and was thoroughly impressed with Sam's work.

"My eldest daughter paints...this frame will be perfect to showcase her artwork," Thomas told him.

"Miss Quinn, I presume?" Sam asked. Thomas _mmhmm_'d while looking over the frame.

"Come. I'll show you your living quarters," Thomas said finally, staggering out of the barn.

"Living quarters, sir?" Sam asked. Thomas had failed to mention to Sam the part about living on site. He followed Thomas Fabray to a row of basically shacks next to a tobacco field.

"They're two-room cabins, bedroom and sitting room. Outhouses out back." Thomas gestured farther down the row. Sam counted quickly; 10 cabins. Thomas stopped at the last one. "Wages are $10 a day plus room and board."

"Oh..." Sam said. The money sounded fine; living at the Fabrays was a different story.

"You can take your meals in the house, if you want, or cook your own out here," Thomas said, walking up on the small front porch of the last cabin. Sam followed him inside. He was still trying to process eating meals in the Fabray household.

The front part of the cabin was a sitting room with a table and chair and rocking chair in the corner. There was a twisted yarn rug covering the center of the floor. One window next to the one door. There was a doorway into the sleeping area, which included a bed and nightstand and another chair and one window there. It was all he needed.

"I'll take the job, sir," Sam said, shaking his hand. "I can start Monday."

_xxxxx_

Thomas Fabray brought the frame into the house and went upstairs to Quinn's bedroom and knocked lightly.

"Quinny! Come look what I have for you!" Thomas said quietly.

She had been daydreaming at the window and jumped at the sound of his voice. She put on her robe and went to the door.

"This! For a painting of yours! The new carpentry boy made it," her father said.

She took the frame from him. It was very simple but she traced her finger over the intricate carving all along it.

"It's beautiful, pa. I know just the painting for it. Is the boy taking the position?" she asked, trying not to sound too curious.

"He is. He starts on Monday. He'll be taking his meals inside so tell Patsy to set an extra place."

She sucked in her breath. He'd be there for supper nearly every day! He'd be living in a cabin just outside her bedroom window. That thought made her blush.

"Come see what I've been working on, papa." She sometimes would use a more endearing term for her father when in the right mood. She walked over to her easel to show him her artwork. "This frame is perfect for it."

"That is just lovely, Quinny!" he said, pulling her into a hug. The scene was in a sunlit forest with a creek and three children off in the distance. She had even painted a fairy into the scene but didn't tell her father where it was since he also thought fairies were sent by the devil.

_xxxxx_

Telling his grandmother he was moving went easier than Sam expected. He told her about the position on the Fabray farm and that he'd be earning a decent sum of money through the cold months and the work would keep him busy. She knew about the small cabins there and liked the Fabrays so come Monday morning she sent him off with a quick hug and kiss to his forehead. He loaded his horse as he had done when traveling from Kentucky and rode over to his new residence.

He tied up Clyde and knocked on the front door. It was still early, the sun had only been up maybe an hour. There was a light frost on the ground and rooftops. Patsy opened the door to him and ushered him in.

"Let's keep the cold out, Mister!" she said. "I'll fetch Mister F'bray."

Thomas Fabray shuffled out of his office to where Sam waited in the foyer.

"G'morning, sir. I can get to work if that is satisfactory," Sam said to him

"Sure, sure. Go ahead and take your belongings to your cabin, stable your horse, and I'll meet you in the workshop," Mr. Fabray told him. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes sir," Sam replied, turning to go outside. He walked Clyde to the stables and set him up in an open stall, unsaddled him, fed and watered him. He then took his few belongings and walked out to his cabin.

_xxxxx_

Quinn had heard the knocking early on Monday morning. She heard her father's muffled voice talking to another muffled male voice. This time, she was not going to spy from the top of the stairs. Her sister was still snoring, which annoyed Quinn to no end. She went to her window and saw Sam going to the stables with a black stallion. _That must be one of his prized possessions_, she thought. She then watched him walk to the last cabin and enter it with two bags. She dressed quickly for breakfast and woke up her lazy sister.

Sam emptied his two bags in the cold cabin. He'd start a fire later. On the bedside table, he placed a small drawing of his late wife, the only picture he had of her, his journal, and his mother's Bible. He stacked what few pieces of clothing he had on the chair in there. He put on his coat and returned to the workshop to wait on Mr. Fabray. He did start a fire in the stove in there.

Thomas arrived shortly thereafter and gave him an idea of what kind of pieces of furniture he wanted to try to sell. He decided he'd take the first items the upcoming Friday and see how those sold. He wanted Sam to make basic chairs, cradles, highchairs, coat racks, things people would need and would buy. Sam got to work.

He worked through lunch and went to the house when he heard the supper bell ring after squelching the fire in the stove. He walked quickly up to the rear of the home, through the gardens and past the summer kitchen, onto a stone patio, and knocked on the rear door. The ever-present Patsy ushered him inside. The wind had picked up and he brought leaves in with him.

"You's must be hungry, Mister Sam!" she squealed, leading him to the dining room. Only one place was set. She saw him pause and look at the one place setting. "You's be dinin' alone dis evenin', sir. The Smithson girl is havin' her baby 'n Granny Palmer was done called over der, along with da F'bray ladies."

"I see. Thank you, Patsy," he said as she brought him a plate of hot food and poured him a cup of coffee. He assumed 'Granny Palmer' was Miss Quinn's grandmother and she must deliver babies. He finished his supper quickly and returned to his cabin.

There, he started a fire to warm the place up and sat down at the table to record his day's activities in his journal. He then read from his mother's Bible, specifically the verse Preacher Campbell had recommended even though he had memorized it soon after the revival and knew it by heart. The chill in the cabin finally was warmed by the fire, and he climbed into the strange bed under the strange coverlet and quilt and fell asleep.

_xxxxx_

Quinn was sitting with Kate just outside the bedchamber of the laboring Smithson girl who was presently yelling about the pain, about how she was "never gonna let him do that to me again!" Quinn didn't know what _that_ was but thought if it caused this kind of distress Lila Smithson was very correct in her declaration to not let him do it again. Quinn also didn't know who the _he_ was in this situation; the Smithson baby would be a bastard child. It was not surprising, though, as the Smithsons were considered "white trash" there. Her father was a drunk and rarely found work, only enough to get by; her mother was also a drunk. There was a gaggle of children besides Lila, none of them well cared for. However, Quinn's grandmother was the midwife in these parts and usually requested that Quinn, Kate, and their mother be present to assist her. Quinn and Kate's job was to keep hot water available and clean sheets and rags handy. Quinn had lost track of how many deliveries she had been present at. She knew Lila Smithson from school, when Lila would attend. She was only a year older than Quinn.

The screams from the bedchamber intensified, Quinn's grandmother and mother's voices muffled, calming. Quinn and Kate sat next to Lila's parents who appeared to be disinterested in what was happening in the other room.

Soon, there was quiet. Quinn waited for the telltale infant's cry and prepared a pot of hot water to take in the room. She waited and waited. No baby cried. Lila's parents were summoned into the room. Quinn and Kate were asked to bring the hot water and sheets a few minutes later. In the room, Lila's parents were attempting to comfort her; she was just sobbing. The infant was stillborn. Quinn's grandmother attended to Lila while Quinn's mother cleaned up the babe. She asked Lila if she wanted to hold him, a boy-child, but Lila shook her head violently, saying _no, no_. Quinn looked at her mother; she was crying silently and rocking the still infant. Kate was openly crying. Quinn didn't know what to do. She said a silent prayer over the infant and left the room, going outside for fresh air.

An hour later, the Fabrays and Granny Palmer were on their way home, bringing with them the dead infant to bury in their family cemetery since the Smithsons didn't have proper burying ground and even requested that Granny Palmer remove the infant from their cabin.

At home, Quinn and Kate immediately retired to their room. It was late and they were emotionally drained. Quinn sat at their window seat looking out at the row of cabins and realized they missed supper there. She saw the glow of the fire at Sam's cabin and the smoke coming from the chimney there. She went to bed wondering how Lila could turn her baby away like that, so coldly and emotionlessly. She fell into a restless sleep.

_xxxxx_

Over the next few days, Sam fell into a routine with his carpentry at the Fabrays. Thomas asked him to accompany him to Bedford Friday to help sell his work to the general store there. However, Sam took most of his meals alone, sometimes with Thomas and Mrs. Fabray and sometimes their children, Peyton, Kate, Thomas, John, and Joseph. Quinn took her meals in her room, suddenly feeling very shy. This feeling confused her as she was normally very outgoing.

On Friday, Sam was up before the sun, loading Thomas' wagon to go to Bedford. It would take most of Friday to get there. If the furniture sold well there, Thomas wanted to take pieces to Lynchburg and Roanoke to sell. The trip to Lynchburg would take at least three days.

Quinn's mother came to her room and awakened her quietly. She was needed to help in the kitchen. Quinn wearily pulled herself out of her warm bed and dressed in her usual daywear for housework, then school. In the kitchen, two lunch pails were prepared; she was told her father and the carpenter were going to Bedford and she needed to take the pails to them. She sighed inwardly, not letting her mother see. She had been trying to avoid Sam; he made her feel funny, strange new feelings to her, and she felt it was best if she kept her distance from him.

Her mother had asked her to take the lunches to the men, and she couldn't be stubborn. She pulled on her cloak and slipped out the rear door and walked swiftly in the cold morning air to the wagon parked at the workshop.

_xxxxx_

Sam was busy loading up various pieces of furniture he had worked on that week. Thomas had not made an appearance so Sam had hitched the team to the largest wagon in the stable and pulled it up to the barn. It was quiet at the barn with an occasional grunt and snort from the horses but then he heard someone clear their throat softly, a feminine voice.

As Quinn approached the wagon at the barn, she saw Sam working quickly to load up the furniture. He was wearing the oversized black suit from the revival. He was clean shaven, his hair damp. She stood next to the front of the wagon quietly, in the shadows, watching him, and finally cleared her throat to announce her presence.

"Miss Quinn," he said, shocked to see her standing there, the hood of her cloak over her head, clutching the lunch pails close to her breast. He had stopped in his tracks upon seeing her, holding a standing coat tree. He loaded it into the back of the wagon slowly and approached her.

He stood in front of her, looking down at her, and she was speechless.

"G'morning," he said finally, smiling.

"Your lunches, for you and pa, for today," she stammered.

"Thank you," he said, taking the pails from her and setting them on the bench in the front of the wagon. "I've missed your company at suppertime."

She sucked in her breath. Whether or not he intended it to be, what he had blurted out was a very forward statement and she was not required to explain her absence.

"I wish you safe travel, Mr. Evans," she said curtly and turned quickly to return to the house.

He knew as soon as he said it that he had overstepped the boundary of decorum, expressing that he had missed seeing her. He was just so surprised to see her that morning and he spoke without thinking. It had been so long since he had felt that way about a young lady and how he felt flustered him. And, as stealthily as she appeared, she was gone.

_xxxxx_

The 6-hour trip to Bedford was mostly silent on Sam's part. He drove the wagon while Thomas sat next to him and talked enough for the both of them. What interested Sam the most though was Thomas' talk about his eldest daughter, Quinn Amelia.

"I think her heart was broken by the Hudson boy and that just broke my heart…since then, she hasn't been the same," Thomas said. "Once smiling and laughing often, now quiet and reserved."

Sam stayed quiet; it wasn't his place to ask questions regarding Quinn's love life.

"Now, my youngest lass, Catherine, she has blossomed into quite the rose. That James Martin is quite taken with her," Thomas went on.

Sam smiled. It seemed as though James Martin had moved on from Quinn and that made him happy.

In Bedford, Sam stopped the wagon in front of the general store.

"We'll go to talk to the proprietor and then have our lunch," Thomas said, stepping out of the wagon and wandering off to the side of the building to relieve himself. Sam waited and then entered the general store following Thomas. As Thomas spoke to the proprietor about the fine furniture he had to sell, Sam looked around the store. There was a fine suit hanging on a dressmaker's form that he could surely use; the one he had inherited hung on him. He made his way back to the counter that extended from the front of the store to the back. He stopped at one display of jewelry and stared at the plain wedding bands. The sight of those made his heart ache; he had never been able to afford one for his late wife. She had reassured him that she didn't need a ring but he had promised her one as soon as he could afford it. She died too soon, though, and there hadn't been time. He moved on from the rings to stand next to Thomas Fabray. Listening to Thomas speak to the shop owner made Sam realize that Thomas was quite the salesman. Thomas introduced Sam as the "master carpenter of Fabray Fine Goods." The shop owner followed Thomas to the wagon to inspect the furniture and Sam followed him.

After much haggling, the shop owner bought five pieces and allowed Thomas to leave five pieces to sell under his name. They decided to give it a month and see if anything sold.

Sam drove the wagon to a grove of trees so they could eat their lunch.

"You don't talk a lot, boy. Tell me about yourself," Thomas said.

Sam was afraid this would happen.

"Well, sir, I was born at the Feazels and lived there until I was 9. My father wrote for me then so I moved to Stokes County, North Carolina, to live on his farm…"

"Why'd you stay at the Feazels? Who is your pa?"

"My father is Aaron Evans, sir. My mother died 8 days after I was born."

"I see…Elizabeth Feazel? I seem to recall that," Thomas told him.

"Did you know my mother?" Sam asked.

"My wife might have known her," he replied. "Go on…"

"I joined the North Carolina Militia and fought in the War of 1812, then returned to Stokes County," Sam said, not wanting to share details of his move to Kentucky and early marriage.

"What brought you back to Virginia?"

_Loneliness_, Sam thought. "Wanted to see my Feazel relatives," he said simply.

That answer seemed to satisfy Thomas as he asked no more questions except "Ready to go, boy?" Sam nodded and went to the wagon.

They returned to the Fabray residence in time for supper. Sam was pleasantly surprised to see Quinn had joined the family that evening.

"Miss Quinn," he said quietly and nodded at her.

"Mr. Evans," she replied. She had decided calling him by his given name was too personal even though he had asked her to call him Sam.

Peyton and Kate were gone from the table, leaving only Quinn, her parents, her other three brothers, and Sam. Thomas dominated the conversation retelling his and Sam's trip to Bedford and his dealings with the shop proprietor. Sam stole glances at Quinn whenever possible. She was as unique as he remembered her as a child playing in the forest. Her skin perfect and unblemished, her hair lovely even when she wore it down and loose, her eyes still deep and mysterious, her lips a delicious shade of red that suddenly made him want to kiss her. He blushed at his own thought.

"Sam! Sam!" One of the twins called his name and he realized they had been talking to him but he had not been paying one bit of attention to them.

"Yes, John?"

"We need a fourth for our game….do you want to play?" John asked him.

Sam had nothing else to do that evening. "Sure, what game?"

"We'll show you…"

He followed the three younger boys outside to the field where they had played the bat and ball game. The ball they handed him then was an odd-shaped leather-covered thing and they told him they basically passed it up and down the field to score at a certain point. He was paired with Joseph, the youngest, and the twins paired up.

Sam enjoyed the exercise, running up and down the field, stretching his muscles, getting to know Quinn's younger brothers. Quinn watched the boys from the kitchen window, wondering what it was about Sam that had her feeling so confused. She was so sure that Finn Hudson was the only boy for her, yet she was wrong, so wrong, about him.

She joined her mother in the sitting room and picked up some quilt squares she had been working on.

"Quinny, you've been so quiet lately, withdrawn. Tell me your troubles," her mother said quietly. "Is it the Hudson boy?"

Quinn shrugged a little. "Maybe. The Smithson baby's death."

"Regarding Lila Smithson's baby, there was nothing that could be done to save the poor babe. He's in a much better place now. Regarding Mr. Hudson and his haste nuptials with Miss Elizabeth Sinclair, I believe _you_ are in a much better place. No matter how you felt for him, he was never going to return those feelings; you would've been in a miserable marriage with him. Eventually, you'll meet the right boy…maybe you already have." Miranda Palmer Fabray was not blind to what was going on with her children and during supper, as her husband droned on about his day in Bedford, she had seen Sam Evans looking at Quinn almost longingly.

Quinn smiled, stitching her square. "Definitely not James Martin; I think Kate has set her cap for him!"

"No, not Mr. Martin. Maybe you should get to know Mr. Evans better," her mother suggested.

Quinn stopped and looked up at her mother, shocked that she would be so bold as to mention Sam Evans.

"He seems to be a nice fellow," Quinn offered. Her mother smiled.

That evening, Quinn sat at her window seat, watching the glow from Sam's cabin and she wondered what he did by himself there at night.

Sam read from his mother's Bible. He had noticed she had marked certain passages and he wondered how those had been significant to her. He wrote in his journal. He wrote about his first trip (of what would be many) with Mr. Fabray to Bedford and how he saw the wedding rings at the shop and thought of Elizabeth and then how Quinn had joined them at supper and the game of catch with her brothers. He sometimes would move the rocking chair to the tiny front porch and wrap up in the quilt and meditate, looking at the Fabray house and the lit-up window on the second floor and wonder if Quinn was there and what she was doing.


	5. Mistletoe

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 5-Mistletoe**

**Franklin County, Virginia November/December 1816**

The end of November was quickly approaching. Thomas Fabray had received a letter from the Bedford general store to bring more items to sell, all 10 pieces had sold. Sam had been working diligently since the first trip to Bedford and had an inventory ready to go.

As the days were getting shorter and the nights colder, Sam very much appreciated having his meals in the big house. Quinn was present more and more often. He learned that some nights her school work kept her busy and she would be absent. The mealtimes he shared with her and her family were becoming more and more comfortable for him as he got to know the different members of the Fabray clan better.

The night before Thomas Fabray, Sam, and the twins were to leave for Bedford and then Lynchbburg there was a harvest ball at the meetinghouse. The Fabray household was aflutter with excitement. Supper was held early that evening and all were in attendance. Peyton and Kate were going in his buckboard to pick up Martha and James. Quinn was going to take her younger brothers in her buckboard.

As supper was coming to a close, Quinn had noticed Sam was quiet, listening to them all discuss their plans for the ball.

She took a deep breath and asked him, "Will you be attending this evening, Mr. Evans?"

He looked at her in surprise. He had not planned on going, though Peyton had asked him.

"I had not planned on it, Miss Quinn," he answered quietly.

"Oh, well, that's a disappointment," she replied, going to her room, blushing fiercely.

_I'm such a fool! I can't believe I was so brazen to ask him at the supper table if he'd be going to this dance!_ she thought, running up the stairs and to her room, throwing herself on her bed.

"Quinny? What is the trouble, darling?" Kate asked her. "You should wear your brown satin tonight…it's so lovely on you." When Quinn did not reply, Kate sat down next to her on her bed and asked, "Is this about James Martin, Quinny?"

Quinn looked at her, stunned. "Of course not Kate! No, of course not." She sat up. "Yes, I'll wear the brown satin. Can you pull my corset for me?"

"Sure sister!" Kate said happily, hopping up to retrieve the brown dress for Quinn.

_xxxxx_

She ran away so quickly he wasn't able to speak to her any further. The only reason he did want to go to the event was to see her but he certainly couldn't explain that at the supper table in front of her entire family. He was going to say he hadn't planned on it, but he might go since it sounded like fun…but she ran off. He returned to his cabin and pulled out his journal.

_Liz has been gone 3 monhts now. She wanted me to go on, even said so on her deaht bed. I'm not sure I can._

He recalled sitting with her in her feverish state. Sometimes she was lucid; most of the time she wasn't. She was so hot; the heat radiated from her body even as he sat next to her. He felt so helpless, not able to help her whatsoever, except to be there by her side. The day she died she had been talking about spiders on the walls, spiders all over her, and was scared. For most of the day, she hadn't recognized him or her mother. In one brief moment of clarity, she had grasped his hand and said, "Sam, you must go on without me…for me, you'll go on…" He had seen the recognition in her eyes as she looked at him, she knew it was him and she knew she was dying. She started seizing shortly thereafter and he had to leave the room, unable to take it anymore. Her mother had laudanum and had given that to her, which calmed her down enough that Sam could be with her when she passed.

He lay on his bed that night, stretched out, and thinking about that day. He sighed and went to the table where his journal lay open still. To the most recent entry, he added: _Going to a harvest ball tonight._

_xxxxx_

Quinn sat against a wall, watching her friends and neighbors dance to the fiddle. Kate wore Quinn's green silk gown and looked very happy dancing with her official beau, James Martin. Peyton and Martha Hudson also looked happy together, smiling as they waltzed around the room. Even her parents were dancing; she saw her father steal a kiss or two on her mother's cheek.

Sam rode his black stallion to the meetinghouse and tied him up outside, noticing the ball was in full swing at this point. He was again in the oversized black suit but had added a black bow tie to the outfit (Thomas had given it to him so he'd look more presentable when they went to sell their wares). He stepped inside, holding his black hat in his hands, and took in the scene before him.

He had been to harvest balls or festivals before; the neighbors celebrating the harvest, even one when he was courting Elizabeth. At this one, though, he felt painfully out of place, at least until his uncle Phillip approached him.

"Didn't 'spect to see you here, Samuel," he said, clapping his shoulder.

"Seemed like the place to be," he replied, watching the crowd for one certain blonde-haired girl.

"How's the carpentry work going for Fabray?"

"Fine. We're leaving for Bedford tomorrow, then onto Lynchburg" Sam said. "Is Grandmother Feazel here?"

"Somewhere…"

Then Sam saw her. Quinn waltzed by, dancing with a boy he didn't know. She looked bored.

Earlier, a boy her age whom she knew only from school, Charles Wyatt, asked her to dance. Since she was not being courted by any certain fellow, if she was asked she had to dance.

He offered his hand, and she said, "Thank you, Mr. Wyatt." She thought the dance would never end. When it did, she begged out of the next one by saying her ankles felt weak. It would be very inappropriate for him to question her about such a delicate part of the female body, so he walked her back to her seat and wandered off. She thanked her lucky stars that she got out of another dance with him; her toes were killing her now from him stomping all over them.

She began watching the others in the next dance when she heard an _ahem_ next to her. She turned and Sam sat right next to her. She gasped.

"Oh! Mr. Evans! You did give me such a fright!" she said, more nervous than scared.

"My apologies, Miss Quinn," he said, wondering if he had made a big mistake.

"It's nice to see you decided to attend," she said, and he smiled.

"It sounded like fun," he replied.

"Everyone is having fun, not me though. I dislike dancing," she said morosely.

"You? You dislike dancing? I'm sure you're a fine dancer," he said, enjoying their conversation.

"I can never find a decent partner," she groaned.

"If it is okay, I'd like to have the next dance with you. I promise not to step on your dainty toes," he said, smiling. He had noticed how clumsy her last partner had been.

She paused a moment, looking back at the other dancers.

"That would be very nice, Mr. Evans," she answered.

"You can call me Sam, Miss Quinn," he said. He felt like an old man when she called him _Mr. Evans_ though he understood she was behaving as any young lady would.

"Only if you start calling me Quinn," she responded. He smiled and blushed a little.

"Okay…Quinn," he said, feeling odd not using her title.

"Fine…Sam," she said.

They sat together quietly awaiting the next dance, which turned out to be a Virginia reel. They got into position, and the fiddler began playing _Old Zip Coon_. The lively dance gave Quinn cause to genuinely smile, though Charles Wyatt wondered how her ankles healed so quickly and then he saw her smiling at the blonde-haired man and knew why.

A waltz was next, and Quinn began making her way back to her seat. She felt a hand at her elbow and turned to be looking up at Sam.

"May I have this dance, Quinn?" he asked her. He had seen her walking off and knew she didn't expect any other dances with him; he'd have to ask her again.

She paused again. This dance was one where he'd have to hold her hand, wrap an arm around her waist. Was she ready to allow him to get so close to her? Her stomach felt full of butterflies.

"You may, Sam," she said and took his hand.

They stood face to face, and he held her hand in his and put his arm at her waist, still keeping a very respectable distance from her. She rested her other hand on his shoulder, and they began moving. All she could focus on was his rough callused hand holding hers and his blue eyes staring down at her.

She was beautiful that night. Her hair loose around her shoulders but pulled up at the sides in a pretty clip. He had seen her in that dress before but that night, as they danced the waltz, all he could concentrate on was the feel of the black velvet piping under his fingers at her waist, her impossibly tiny waist. The lamp light was reflected in her hazel eyes, and he couldn't stop staring into them. She finally broke his gaze, looking down and biting her lip, and he blushed. He was astounded that a lady as pretty as Quinn Fabray would dance any dances with him in his oversized suit and rough hands and big fish lips. He did hold good on his promise, though, to not step on her toes.

She thought he was an exceptional dancer. He knew the steps and moved her around the floor smoothly, not once stomping on her feet. She had been staring at him and then realized it and looked away. When she looked back at him, he was blushing.

The dancing went on for another hour, and she allowed him to dance with her the rest of the dances. At the end of the last dance, they stood together facing one another. _I really don't want this to end_, she thought.

"It has been a pleasure, Mi-…uh, Quinn," he said, picking up her hand and bringing it to his lips. It was common practice for a suitor to kiss the hand of a young lady. His lips on her skin sent shivers up and down her spine. He kept his eyes on her as he did so, to make sure it was received well. Her mouth formed a small _o_ as his lips touched her.

"Thank you…Sam…for a lovely evening," she said and curtsied a bit. Seeing her do that reminded him of the little girl in the forest. He retrieved his hat from his chair.

"I'll see you soon," he said to her quietly, taking her in one final time before he left the meetinghouse to return to her father's estate and his cabin. She stood in the middle of the dance floor where he had left her until her parents came to tell her it was time to go.

_xxxxx_

The next week went slowly for Quinn at home. She was finishing her last year of school so had enough work there to keep her busy. She didn't realize she'd miss Sam's company to such a degree. The temperatures were dropping and they had had some light snow. Her father, Sam, and her twin brothers were gone, trying to sell more of Sam's crafted pieces. Apparently, they had sold very well in Bedford; people had actually left orders for Thomas. They were also traveling to Lynchburg to leave some pieces there. The only thing on her mind most days was Sam kissing her hand, how warm his lips had been on her skin and a bit moist, and she'd often wonder what it'd be like to actually kiss him.

After the harvest ball, her mother had caught her alone, working on her quilt squares in the sitting room.

"You and Mr. Evans seemed to have a nice evening the other night. You danced nearly all the dances with him," her mother said.

"He's very cordial and a fine dancer," Quinn said. Quinn used to be outspoken about her affection for Finn Hudson but since he had eloped she didn't share her feelings with anyone, her mother had noticed.

"That he is, Quinny, and he's a very talented carpenter," her mother noted.

"Mmhmm, I've seen his work," Quinn responded.

"Hypothetically, if the boy was to ask your father for permission to court you, how would you feel about that?" _Sometimes, a mother just needs to be direct_, Miranda thought. Quinn sat her stitching in her lap and sighed.

"If father approved it, I'd have no other choice, I'm sure," she replied.

"If you are not fond of the boy you are under no obligation to spend time with him, Quinny. Are you fond of him?"

"He's a very nice boy, yes," Quinn answered, hoping to end such an embarrassing conversation with her mother.

Her mother smiled. Her daughter was definitely fond of Sam Evans.

_xxxxx_

All Sam could think of as they made the long drive from Bedford and then to Lynchburg was kissing Quinn's hand at the harvest ball. He had lain awake most of that night reliving their dances and then the end when he took her tiny hand in his and brought it to his lips. He turned over in his bed and saw the picture of Elizabeth, and his thoughts turned to her and their courtship. He missed her terribly and was finding himself very confused about his feelings toward Quinn Fabray. He knew Elizabeth was never coming back and she had told him to go on…why did he feel so guilty about enjoying his time with Quinn? Because he'd always love Elizabeth and he couldn't deny it. He wasn't sure if it was possible for him to love another woman.

In Bedford, they filled the orders and the shopkeeper bought 10 more pieces. They then began the long trip to Lynchburg, at least another 2-1/2 days. They used the covered wagon this trip in case it snowed on them. He found himself missing Quinn. He wondered if it would be proper to ask her father if he may court her. He'd probably have to confess his previous marriage, at least to her father. He knew he wasn't ready to discuss it with her yet.

They arrived in Lynchburg late in the evening. Thomas rented a hotel room for them while Sam stabled the wagon at the livery. Sam was relieved to be able to sleep in the hotel; the past couple nights had been hell in the cold. The room held two beds, a table, and two chairs. Sam slept with John that night, and he slept soundly.

The next day, they visited the general store in Lynchburg, which was at least three times the size of the store in Bedford. This was a two-story brick building, filled with everything one would need though Sam noted the choices of furniture were slim and of poor quality. Thomas brought in one of Sam's finest pieces, and the store owner checked the entire load of what they had brought and decided to buy it all as he needed "to beef up his fine goods section." While his shop hands unloaded the woodwork, Sam looked at mens' suits. He had his wages with him and decided on a grey wool suit that fit him much better than the black suit of his late grandfather. He chose a slim black tie to go with it and a new white shirt also. He found Thomas and his sons in the ladies' wear.

"I always bring something back for my ladies," he bellowed to Sam. "What would Quinny like?" Her brothers chose a dark green velvet gown with a white lace collar and trim at the cuffs. For Kate, they chose a red muslin dress with black embroidery. For their mother, they chose a fancy black hat and new black cloak. They paid for their new clothes (Thomas bought his three youngest sons new boots) and headed home. Sam made one more special purchase for a certain blonde-haired girl.

"I think my Quinny will look perfect in her new green gown. What say you, Sam?" Thomas asked him as they lumbered down the road.

Sam looked at him a little scared and a lot shocked.

"Um, well, sir, I'm sure she'll be as pretty as one of those pictures she paints," Sam said, smiling, satisfied with his answer.

"Are you fond of my eldest daughter, Mr. Evans?" Thomas asked him bluntly.

"Um, sir…" Sam was dumbfounded and didn't know how he should answer. This man was paying him well to do something he thoroughly enjoyed and he didn't want to lose his job, _couldn't_ lose his job.

"My wife and I saw you two dancing at the harvest thing a few nights ago. She appeared somewhat, how should I say this? _enamored_, with you," Thomas went on.

"Sir…"

"Call me Thomas, boy,"

"Um, Thomas, your daughter Quinn is a pretty young lady. I enjoy speaking with her, as she is very smart and creative. So, yes, I'd say I'm fond of her as a friend," Sam muttered.

"You don't want to ask my permission to court her then?" Thomas asked him.

Sam literally wanted to climb in the back of the wagon and hide.

"Sir…uh, Thomas…that would be Miss Quinn's decision. But, yes, I'd like your permission to spend more time with her…please."

Sam took a few deep breaths. He couldn't remember being this nervous about courting Elizabeth. Had he been? What if Quinn turned down his offer? How would he even bring it up? His mind was reeling.

"You have my permission then, as long as you have a chaperone present, preferably her brother Peyton. I'll let you talk to her about this; I won't get involved from this point on."

"Thank you, sir, for your permission. I am fond of Quinn," Sam said.

Thomas smiled in the darkness. "Let's pull over and call it a day, then."

_xxxxx_

Sam was happy to be back in Franklin County and in his cabin. Thomas let him have the day off after their travels, and Sam slept a solid 12 hours before rising from his bed to stumble out to the porch to pee. He felt like he had been drunk, only having been drunk once in his life before, while he served his time during the War of 1812. He returned to his bed, sat down, and then it hit him. Thomas Fabray had given him permission to court Quinn, yet it was up to him to communicate this to her. He picked up his picture of Elizabeth.

"Are you okay with this, Elizabeth?" he chuckled a bit, talking to her picture. "I'm not sure I am. She makes me smile like you did, though, and I've missed smiling. I miss you. This is so hard, Elizabeth, I never thought it'd be so hard."

_xxxxx_

Quinn heard her father and brothers come in in the middle of the night when they returned from their trip. She tiptoed over to her window and saw the glow from Sam's cabin. She thanked God that they all made it home safely and went back to her bed.

Sam wasn't at breakfast or lunch. She didn't want to ask her father if all was okay; he had already given them the good news about the store in Lynchburg buying the furniture they transported there and now Sam had to work hard to build the inventory back up. She was pleasantly surprised to see the beautiful green velvet dress her father brought her and knew just when she'd wear it.

Quinn rang the supper bell later and took her place at the table, looking at Sam's empty seat and wondering where he was. Midway through supper, he arrived, apologizing for being late, saying he was trying to finish some things in the workshop. He glanced at Quinn and nodded slightly, sat down, said a quick prayer, and began eating.

"I thought pa gave you the day off," Quinn said.

"I decided to try to get some work done anyway, to get ahead," he said.

"I see," she answered and that was all they spoke to each other that day.

_xxxxx_

A few days later, Quinn donned her new cloak (her mother's old one) and took a stroll through the forest. The air was brisk and there was a light dusting of snow on the ground. She was tired of being cooped up in the house and school was on break due to the upcoming Christmas holiday. She wanted to paint but needed inspiration and nature always helped her out.

_Maybe I'll see a fairy today_, she thought, wandering down their old paths. She wandered over the creek, which was dried up now, and nearly over to the Feazels. She found the oak tree with her initials carved in it. She stared at it for awhile and traced it with her fingers. She had found her inspiration.

_xxxxx_

Sam was spending every waking minute in the workshop, mainly to build the inventory back up and also to keep his mind off Quinn. Since speaking with her father, he was just all nerves around her now. He wasn't sure when would be a good time to speak to her and was a little afraid of how she'd respond to his request.

Thomas came to the workshop a week before Christmas to see how the inventory looked and was very pleased.

"Our next trip will be after the holidays…definitely to Lynchburg, haven't decided when to go to Richmond yet," Thomas said.

"Sounds good, sir," Sam said.

"Have you had a chance to talk to my eldest daughter, Sam?" he asked.

"No sir."

"I thought you were fond of her. Was that a lie?"

"Oh no, sir! Absolutely not! I'm just not sure…how to approach her about it," Sam said, flustered and blushing.

"I'm sure you'll find the right time, then. I've come to tell you we host a Christmas get-together the night before Christmas and you are more than welcome to attend," Thomas told him.

"Thank you, sir. I might be spending time at grandmother Feazel's though," Sam said.

"Just remember, you'll find the right time, I'm sure of it…" Thomas said and winked, wandering back to the house.

"I'd better be at the Christmas get-together, then," Sam said to himself quietly, going back to work.

_xxxxx_

On December 23rd, Quinn finished her painting. It was of her initials carved in the oak tree in the forest. Once she was sure it had dried, she rolled it up and tied it with a red ribbon.

For the past two weeks, preparations for their Christmas get-together were in process. Quinn's grandmother Palmer would be there, as well as her Fabray grandparents, and a myriad of aunts, uncles, and cousins. The house had to be cleaned from top to bottom, extra bedding set up in the house, the empty cabins behind the big house would be used, then decorations put up, and food preparation began. They had done this the past few years, so Quinn was familiar with the process and welcomed it, to keep her busy. She offered to set up the cabins along with Kate while her mother and Patsy worked on the inside of the house. There were five unoccupied cabins. Of the other five, one was Sam's, one was Patsy's, and three were for farmhands that Thomas employed.

Sam picked up on the festive nature of the Fabray household in the couple weeks leading up to Christmas. He had never been part of such going's on and didn't quite know what to expect. Once the household was cleaned, Sam and Quinn's brothers were recruited to decorate with pine boughs and red ribbons. He had to admit the house took on a whole new look with the decorations. The natural pine scent throughout the property was wonderful, too, refreshing from what he worked with daily.

Quinn and Kate dusted and swept the unoccupied cabins, made up the bed or beds with fresh linens, brought firewood to the porch, made sure there were candles available. One day, as they worked their way closer to Sam's cabin, Quinn told Kate she was going to the outhouse but her surreptitious purpose was to peer in a window of Sam's cabin. At his cabin, she snuck onto the front porch, looking back to make sure Kate wasn't watching her. She cupped her hands against the glass and peeked in.

She was looking into his bedroom. She saw his few pieces of clothing folded neatly on a chair in there and his two suits hanging from a line of hooks that he must've made for himself. His bed was made. On the nightstand, she saw a picture; she could not make out who though. And there were two books there, as well. She desperately wanted to sneak inside and get a better look at that small framed picture but thought best not to. Eventually, he'd have to tell her.

_xxxxx_

Thomas brought Sam good news on December 23rd. He had received word from Bedford that once again the inventory was low and there were orders placed, which the owner included. There was news from Lynchburg that that store needed more items, as well.

"My question to you, son, is do you need help with keeping up with this?" Thomas asked him. "I'd be more than happy to send Peyton here to learn from you. That boy needs to learn a trade, and he's spending entirely too much time with the Hudson girl. He has told me he plans to ask her father for her hand soon so he needs an occupation."

"Thank you, sir. Yes, I could use the assistance," Sam said. He honestly couldn't believe people were buying his pieces.

"Fine, then. He can accompany us on our trip after the holiday, and I'll increase your wages to twelve dollars a day due to the increase in work and the apprenticeship," Thomas told him and left the workshop before Sam could reply.

_xxxxx_

Guests began arriving the evening of the 23rd. Granny Palmer and Thomas Fabray's parents were staying in the big house. Quinn and Kate were relegated to a cabin with their Aunt Anne, as well as their brothers except Joseph, the youngest, who decided to stay in Sam's cabin. Their guests normally stayed 5-7 days, depending on the weather or other plans they might have. Quinn liked staying in the cabin with her sister and young aunt; it made her feel independent, as if she lived on her own. She had her brothers bring her easel and painting tools out to the cabin hoping to catch some winter scenes. She couldn't deny, also, that she was just a tad thrilled to be sleeping next door to Sam's cabin.

Sam was unaware that Quinn would be right next door. He knew that there was activity regarding the cabins and knew that Quinn and her siblings moved to the cabins when family came to visit for an extended period of time. And, of course, Joseph had asked him if he could stay in his cabin since four boys to one cabin was too many. Joseph was a lot like how Sam saw Quinn, quiet, introspective, kind. He didn't mind the kid staying with him; he might even enjoy the company.

Sam decided to go visit his grandmother Feazel the evening of 23rd to allow the Fabrays to spend time together. After he finished work for the day, he saddled his horse and rode over there. He brought with him a footstool for her, a pipe stand for his Uncle Phillip, and dress hooks for his cousin Sarah. He told them about working for the Fabrays and how it seemed to be going well. His grandmother had made him two new pairs of trousers and two new shirts; she figured he'd need such due to his work. Sarah gave him a cravat of dark gray that he decided he'd wear with the gray wool suit he purchased. Phillip gave him a pouch of tobacco. Sam wasn't one to smoke a pipe but thanked him anyway.

Quinn enjoyed spending time with the Fabrays and Palmers that evening. She felt as though her sadness over the loss of Finn Hudson was finally diminishing, though the news from Martha that evening was Elizabeth Hudson was with child. Quinn tried to not let it get to her and busied herself with helping her mother with hostess duties. In fact, she was more distressed over the fact that Sam was not present that evening than the news of the Hudsons.

Quinn returned to her cabin with Kate and her Aunt Anne relatively early since the next day would be a long day as the rest of the relatives arrived. She noticed that Sam's cabin was still and dark; he had not returned to the Fabrays. She was not even sure where he had gone. They started a fire to warm up the cabin, changed into their nightgowns and robes, and sat around the fireplace, enjoying hot chocolate, a treat they reserved for Christmastime.

"Rumor has it that Mr. Harter will be asking for your hand, Anne!" Quinn said, and she and Kate giggled. Anne smiled mysteriously.

"I've heard the rumor. Not sure there is any truth to it..."

"You can tell us! He's talked to Granny Palmer, hasn't he?" Kate pushed.

"I know of no such thing!" Anne said, still playing coy. "Though it might happen tomorrow evening!"

Quinn and Kate squealed, jumping up to hug her. She was considered more of a sister to them than their aunt.

Kate was the one who opened the conversation, which surprised Quinn not in the least. "What's it feel like to kiss him?"

"Catherine!" Quinn gasped.

"Well, James Martin has kissed me on the cheek, but I often wonder what it's like to kiss on the lips," she confided.

Anne giggled. "Soft and warm..."

Quinn and Kate clutched one another in a fit of squeals and giggles. "Don't you wonder, sister? What it might be like to kiss Finn Hudson?"

Quinn could honestly answer, "No, I don't think of that anymore." _I do wonder what it'd be like to kiss Sam Evans_, she thought.

"I thought you had a suitor, Quinny? The boy who's doing carpentry for your father?"

Quinn looked surprised. "Of course not, Anne! Where did you come upon such an untruth?"

"Granny Palmer, of course. She said you two danced all the dances at the harvest ball and then he kissed your hand."

"A friendly gesture, that is all," Quinn responded, blushing.

"Dear sister, you cannot hide those red-stained cheeks from me!" Kate said, wrapping her arm around Quinn's.

"Mr. Evans is an old friend of mine, and that is all. He has not requested to court me nor has father mentioned him requesting to do so. So, we'll just leave it at that," Quinn said, sipping her hot chocolate. "Besides, enough of this gossip! I'm sleepy and ready for bed!"

To Anne, Kate whispered, "She just doesn't want to talk about him anymore!"

The three young ladies squeezed into the one bed, staying close to one another for the warmth. Quinn tried to sleep but only listened for Sam to return home.

_xxxxx_

Sam returned to the Fabrays late in the evening. He saw candlelight and firelight from the big house, guests still visiting with the Fabrays he assumed. He took Clyde to the stables and got him situated and then walked swiftly in the cold night air to his cabin. He tried not to look at the other cabins, wondering which one Quinn was in but not wanting to get caught looking. He knew where Patsy stayed, the first one, then the three for the farmhands, then three seemed empty still, the second to last one was filled with the sounds of Quinn's brothers rough-housing. He stopped there and grabbed Joseph. Quinn, her sister, and aunt must be in the cabin next to his. He spied the faint glow from their fire through the one window but kept his eyes to the ground as he passed what was the bedroom window. At the door of his cabin sat a small tin with ribbon in a bow on top. He picked it up and sniffed it: cocoa powder.

"My sisters left that for you, for us; it's for hot chocolate," Joseph told him.

In his cabin, he quickly started a fire to warm the place up while Joseph sat at his table looking at the gifts from the Feazels.

"You smoke?" Joseph asked, sniffing the tobacco.

"No, I don't. My Uncle Phillip gave that to me," Sam said and paused. "Why? Do _you_ smoke?"

"Every once in a while...my brothers make me," Joseph said. "What's this?" He held up an envelope.

"A letter from my pa," Sam answered, slipping out of his trousers and shirt and pulling on a pair of long john's.

"Why does your pa write you? Why doesn't he come see you?"

"I don't really know, Joe," Sam answered, pulling two tin cups off the mantle, adding some cocoa and hot water for them.

"Oh..." was all Joseph had to say.

Later, Joseph pulled on his nightwear and they climbed into Sam's bed. Joseph rolled over and saw the picture of Elizabeth.

"Who's that?" he asked Sam in the darkness. _Damn, I should've put that away_, Sam thought.

"You ask a lot of questions," Sam replied, chuckling a little. "She's an old friend of mine."

"She's pretty..."

"Yeah, she was..."

"Where is she now?"

Sam didn't answer right away. "She died this past August." He somehow managed to tell someone else without crying, though he bit his lip hard.

_xxxxx_

The next morning, Quinn, Kate, and Anne were up early, all groaning at the new foot of snow on the ground, as were her brothers and Sam and Joseph to begin getting foodstuff ready for the feast in the afternoon. They still had their regular chores to do along with all the kitchen preparation. They didn't mind, though, as there was an air of anticipation about the Fabray property. Sam and Joseph had already dressed and met up with the other Fabray boys to go about their chores when Quinn, Kate, and Anne left their cabin to go to the big house to help in the kitchen. Patsy thankfully was taking care of bed linens and chamber pots; Quinn hated that job with a passion. Her job that morning was to prepare enough biscuits to feed an army. Eventually, Sam and her brothers clamored in the house and ate a quick breakfast and were off again to shovel pathways at the front of the house. He was clearly happy to see her that morning; she didn't notice him at first so he spied on her a bit thinking she could be pretty in a ball gown or with her hair tied back in a bandana. She stood up from the hot stove with a pan of biscuits, her face bright red and sweaty, strands of blonde hair coming loose, her apron covered with flour splotches here and there, and saw him standing there staring at her. She looked away quickly, knowing she looked a fright. He stole a hot biscuit, as did her brothers, as they left the house through the rear door to go to the front. He caught her eye once more and smiled at her, seeing a hint of a smile back.

More and more people arrived and were received by Quinn's parents. With breakfast finally finished and cleaned up, Quinn, Kate, and Anne retired to the sister's room to rest and prepare for the evening's festivities.

Quinn and Anne rested in Quinn's bed since it was larger and Kate was in her bed. None of the girls napped, instead discussing how Mr. David Harter planned on proposing to their Aunt Anne.

"Do you think he'll get on one knee?" Kate asked. "That's only proper!"

Anne smiled.

"Oooo...maybe it'll happen under the mistletoe! I wonder if the boys have found any?" Quinn wondered aloud. Her brothers, uncles, and male cousins searched the evergreens in the forest for mistletoe since one of her relatives had visited abroad and learned of the custom. "What are you wearing tonight, Anne?"

"I've decided to wear my rose-colored silk; David likes it best!" she exclaimed. Quinn and Kate ahh'd over that gown. It was a very ornate gown with a lot of embellishments and intricate stitching that Anne had done herself.

Quinn and Kate shared with Anne what they were wearing and finally quieted down for a short nap.

They arose a short time later and had Patsy heat bath water for them. It was a rare day that they would wash their hair in preparation for the party. The summer kitchen was not in use so they bathed there and returned to the bedroom to style each other's hair and dress.

Sam had had an interesting day with the menfolk. After shoveling for what seemed like hours, they traipsed off into the forest looking for mistletoe. Sam had never seen it before and didn't know the significance of it.

"What are we looking for?" he asked Peyton quietly.

"Mistletoe! You've never heard of it?"

Sam shook his head.

"We try to find it growing in an evergreen, snap off a few sprigs, and put them around the house," Peyton told him.

"For what? The scent?"

"No silly! If you're caught standing under it with a lady, you must kiss her!" Peyton said, clapping him on the back.

Sam stood there somewhat dumbfounded. What if he forgot and stood under it and one of Quinn's aunts or female cousins or _God forbid_ her sister caught him? He liked Kate well enough, but she was a little too shrill for his tastes. _She'll prob'ley be trying to catch ole James Martin under it anyway_, Sam thought. And then another paralyzing thought hit him...what if _Quinn_ caught him lollygagging beneath it? He had planned on trying to speak to her alone at some point that evening, to ask if he may court her, so a kiss didn't sound too bad on second thought.

He heard a shout from up ahead; they had found a bunch of mistletoe growing about 10 feet up in an evergreen and one of Quinn's twin brothers was already shimming up the tree to snap off sprigs of it, dropping it below where the other men would collect it and put it in a sack.

_xxxxx_

Sam was in his cabin, getting dressed for the party. The boys had taken baths earlier to clean up, which Sam was thankful for; after all the shoveling and work outside he smelled atrocious...an awful mixture of pig manure, sweat, and smoke. He almost wished he could stay in the bath longer; the hot water felt wonderful to his aching muscles. The other boys needed a bath so he had to move swiftly, throwing his work clothes on and jogging quickly to his cabin. There, he stripped off the dirty clothes, wrapped a quilt around his naked frame, built the fire back up, and enjoyed the few minutes of peace and quiet. He brought his journal to the table to add his thoughts about the day so far.

_Christmas party tonight at the Fabrays. Had to hunt for misseltoe in the forest...some kind of kissing tradition. Trying to work up the gumption to ask Miss Quinn if I may court her._

He stopped there and went to his bed and picked up his picture of Elizabeth.

"I guess tonight's the night, Liz. I'm gonna try to ask Quinn Fabray if she might want to court me. Please don't hate me too much..." Maybe he had been thinking about this wrong. He had been trying to heal his broken heart alone; he figured if he stayed alone and kept Elizabeth's memory alive he could get by. It wasn't helping, he found. Every day, it was harder and harder for him to recall simple details about her, her voice, her hair, her skin, her eyes. Maybe Quinn could help him through it. He'd have to tell her about Elizabeth though and he figured that'd be the hardest thing to do since watching her die.

He put her picture down and began getting dressed.

_xxxxx_

"Oh Quinny! You look lovely!" Anne said upon seeing Quinn in the green velvet gown. Quinn had enlisted Kate to tighten her corset and managed to get her waist to 19 inches. _Damn you biscuits! _she thought, recalling the two she had had for breakfast. Quinn tightened Kate's corset and her waist was at 17 inches. Quinn chalked it up to Kate being younger and then didn't think anymore about it. Quinn and Kate both fawned over Anne, all of them anticipating a proposal later. Anne decided to do Quinn's hair, trying a new hairstyle she had heard about that was fashionable in Paris at the time. She fixed Quinn's hair into what she called a French knot and pulled tendrils down to frame Quinn's face. This was also the one night of the year that Thomas Fabray allowed his young daughters to add a little color to their faces. They stole into their parents' bedchamber and gathered around their mother's vanity. Quinn dabbed a small amount of rouge on her lips and the apples of her cheeks and some green powder to her eyelids. They were also allowed to use a tiny amount of her special perfume, imported from Paris, that evening. Quinn took one last look at herself in her mother's full-length mirror. She spun around, allowing the full skirt and three petticoats to billow out around her. Kate did the same thing; Quinn wanted to tell her she overdid it on the eye powder but kept her mouth shut. Kate was looking forward to seeing James Martin that evening and Quinn didn't want to spoil it. Quinn thought Anne was the prettiest of all three. She had let Quinn and Kate use a hot iron roller on her hair, creating big curls all around her head, then piled it up on top of her head using hair pins that matched her gown. Being a bit older than Quinn and Kate, she was allowed to show more décolletage than the younger girls whose dresses were high-necked. She applied her rouge and eye powder like an expert.

"What're you gonna say when he asks you, Anne?" Kate asked, thoroughly excited for her aunt.

"_If_ he asks me, I'll answer in the affirmative," she said, causing another fit of giggles between Quinn and her sister.

"Let's make our entrance, ladies," Kate said, taking them each by the arm and walking to the top of the staircase.

_xxxxx_

Sam put on one of the new shirts from his grandmother, then the grey trousers, then the cravat, and finally the grey jacket. For once, he was thankful for the long tails of his shirt, tucked deep into his trousers, to keep the wool from being to itchy in his more private areas. He didn't have a mirror to model in, could only look down at himself to gauge what he looked like. He hoped it would be enough to at least get Quinn to agree to see him more often; he really was interested in getting to know her better, even if they only remained friends. He slid on his socks and boots and ran his fingers through his hair once more. Taking a deep breath, he left his cabin and headed for the main house.

Even from the back of the house, it was lit up well and he could already hear the voices and piano. He slipped in unnoticed through the kitchen door and made his way to the dining room where the feast was laid out. He really was too nervous to eat but nibbled at some crackers searching for one familiar face. These people were all strangers to him, friendly but still strangers. He helped himself to some punch in a glass bowl and realized it was heavily laden with liquor. He finished it quickly and stayed away from it the rest of the evening. He heard a commotion amongst the older adults and children in the main hall and followed the voices. He gently nudged his way through the crowd, overhearing "Miss Anne," "Miss Quinn," and "Miss Kate." They must be getting ready to make their entrance being the young maidens of the party.

The three girls appeared at the top of the staircase, arm in arm, smiling brightly, and made their way slowly down the stairs. Once he laid eyes on Quinn, he knew there was no way in hell he'd have the nerve to talk to her that evening.


	6. Time Apart

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 6-Time Apart**

**Franklin County, Virginia, Christmas 1816/January-March 1817**

**A/N: In honor of the hopefully good news we received today about Chord Overstreet, I've decided to post the next chapter of this story. Also, there are some mature situations in this chapter... Enjoy!**

His mouth dropped open. She was stunning, literally stunning. He wasn't sure he'd be able to address her at all; her beauty had him at a loss for words.

From the top of the stairs, she scanned the people gathered below for any sign of Sam Evans. She knew he was expected there that evening and hoped to talk to him more.

He recognized the green dress from Lynchburg with the lace around the collar and cuffs. She had a broach pinned on the front just above her breasts and just seeing that pinned there made him swallow and he felt his ears burn. Her face was glowing, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright.

She finally spotted him, at the entrance to the dining room. He held a dainty glass cup in his hand, as if he had been drinking, but was staring at her slack-jawed. She smiled warmly at him.

_Oh dear God, she smiled right at me_...he thought, his mind paralyzed.

Thankfully, as the three descended the stairs, they were surrounded by relatives, so he exhaled, wondering how to approach her, wondering if he was going to even _attempt_ to approach her.

"Aren't you the carpenter boy?" a man about his age asked him.

"Yes, sir. Sam Evans," Sam replied automatically. The man shook his hand.

"You don't have to call me sir...my name's David Harter, a friend of Anne Palmer," he said. Sam knew him to be the one courting Anne, the one that Quinn's brothers had surmised would be proposing that evening. "I've dabbled some in carpentry myself but could never make any money at it. Thomas says you're making him a killing."

"He says it's going well," Sam said.

"Which one were you staring at?"

"Beg pardon?"

"The young ladies...you were staring...Miss Quinn or Miss Kate?" David asked him.

"Oh, well, uh, they're both very lovely young ladies...I hope it didn't appear that I was staring," Sam stammered.

"Hmm...I see Miss Kate already has a beau on her arm...it must be Miss Quinn...fine choice, Sam," David said, clapping him on the shoulder and walking over to join Anne.

Sam was completely flustered now. _Had it been that obvious?_ he thought, wanting to hide in his cabin the rest of the night. He watched Anne take David's arm and Kate take James Martin's arm and move to the sitting room where the piano was and people were singing festive Christmas tunes. He lost sight of Quinn and took a deep breath. _Had I ever been this nervous around Liz? She was so...familiar and it was just easy...this is so confusing_, he thought, moving closer to the sitting room and leaning against the opening. Quinn was standing at the piano singing the song being played by her mother. He thought it was _Joy To The World_but wasn't sure; celebrating Christmas was new to him. What he did know was he could pick out Quinn's voice amongst the others and to him it was like listening to an angel sing.

He shook his head a bit. The alcohol must be getting to him, now he was comparing Quinn to an angel. He went to the front door and stood on the porch to get some fresh air. He heard the revelers begin a new song. Then, a hand was clutching his elbow. He looked over and she was there, looking up at him. _She smells like…love_, he thought, catching the perfume scent on the crisp night air. He had no words.

"You'll catch your death out here, Sam," she said finally, smiling at him. He looked completely frightened by her presence.

"You should be inside, Miss Quinn," he said, gruffly. "This is no place for a lady."

"I beg to differ! It is my home. I shall stand on my front porch if I so desire!" she said teasingly. "Please come inside, Sam, and enjoy the festivities with me-with all of us."

"Miss Quinn, I need..."

"Please, just Quinn. I thought we discussed that," she said, continuing to smile at him. She was as nervous as he was but was not about to let it show.

He cleared his throat. "Uh, Quinn, I need to talk..."

The front door opened quickly and it was Kate poking her head out. "Quinny! It's about to happen! Come inside quickly!"

Quinn turned back to Sam. "This is so exciting! I must go see it!" She ran off into the house. He couldn't believe he had admonished her for being on the porch in the cold night air when instead he should have told her how beautiful she was that night, how her eyes sparkled with the stars, how her cheeks were rosy, how all he wanted to do was run his fingers through her hair. He sighed to himself and followed her after a couple minutes.

_xxxxx_

From a distance, he could see David Harter, down on one knee, in front of a standing Anne Palmer who was smiling and nodding. Quinn and her sister were clutching one another near the newly betrothed couple, also smiling. When the relatives rushed in to congratulate them, he could see tears on Quinn's cheeks. He moved in with the crowd and shook David Harter's hand, offering him his congratulations. Miranda Fabray began playing another tune on the piano and the group joined in. He recognized the song from his grandmother's house and joined in the singing. Anne and David began a dance, Kate and James followed them, then Peyton and Martha, Thomas Fabray was choosing different female partners from around the room. Quinn's twin brothers and Joseph were stuck dancing with their female cousins. Quinn was at the piano again singing with her mother. Sam decided it was now or never and walked over to her as the song ended.

"May I have the next dance, Quinn?" he asked. She smiled and nodded, and her mother began playing a slow waltz.

Sam led Quinn to the middle of the crowded room, and they took their position and began moving.

"You have a lovely singing voice," he said finally.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"And you look lovely tonight," he added.

"Thank you, Sam," she said quietly.

"Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"May I talk to you about something?" Holding her in his arms and moving slowly about the room, he finally felt at ease.

"You may," she replied. He took a deep breath, glancing around the room.

"I'd like to get to know you better. Your father has approved this, and, if you agree, I'd be more than honored to court you, Quinn," he said it quickly, just trying to get the words out in some fashion that she would understand.

She was quiet for a moment and then said, "Sam, I need to talk to you too. Meet me at the bottom of the stairs in a few minutes." She looked up at him, biting her lip, and then ran off toward the staircase.

_xxxxx_

Kate saw Quinn run off and followed her upstairs to their bedroom where she found Quinn had thrown herself on her bed.

"Are you alright sister? I saw you leave abruptly from your dance with Mr. Evans," Kate said, sitting down at the bedside, preparing for tears.

Quinn squealed and sat up, grinning. "He asked me Kate! He asked me!"

Kate was confused. "Asked you what? Surely not another proposal sister!"

Now Quinn looked confused. "No silly! He asked if he could court me!"

Kate squealed with Quinn, clutching her in a hug. "How exciting! Now maybe James and I can be chaperoned by you and Mr. Evans instead of Peyton and Martha."

"I haven't talked to father yet. He said he got his approval. I need to return downstairs. I came up here to retrieve a gift I have for Sam," Quinn said, standing up and straightening her skirts. Her sister hugged her once again and left the room. Quinn checked her appearance once more in the mirror and picked up the rolled painting with the red ribbon.

_xxxxx_

Sam sat down on a bench in the hallway, his heart beating quickly. He was now even more nervous, if that was humanly possible. He finally was able to ask her what he had been wanting to ask her and she ran off. She didn't seem distraught or angry, but he wasn't sure of how to take her reaction. He decided to get another cup of that punch, maybe it would help calm his nerves.

Quinn came down the stairs quickly, looking for Sam but not seeing him. For a brief moment, her heart sank. She shouldn't have run off right after he so gently asked if he may court her. _That was so rude of me_, she thought sadly.

Then, he appeared in the doorway between the dining room and the hallway with another glass cup in his hand. He saw her at the bottom of the staircase and knocked back his glass of punch quickly. He set the delicate glass cup on the buffet and stared at her, again frozen in her presence.

She smiled at him. "Sam, this is..."

"I've found two beneath the mistletoe!" bellowed Thomas Fabray who had had more than his share of alcohol-laden punch that evening. Sam and Quinn both glanced up; they were indeed caught under a sprig of mistletoe. Sam looked at Quinn, panicked. She glanced downward blushing. Sam knew Thomas wouldn't let it go until he kissed her.

He cupped her face in both of his hands and pressed his lips against the softest cheek he had ever kissed. He lingered there for a moment and stood back to see Quinn's response. Her eyes were closed and then she was staring at him. They stood there, stuck to the floor it seemed. Finally, she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to a bench in the front hallway.

"I'm sorry about papa. He gets that way sometimes," she said demurely.

"You never answered me," Sam blurted out.

"I'm sorry," she looked at the gift in her hands. "This is for you. It's my answer."

He took it from her slowly. "But, I don't have anything for you," he said sadly. He did have the special purchase from Lynchburg but his mind had been so focused on asking her to court him he had completely forgotten about it.

"I don't expect gifts, Sam. I enjoy giving them," she said, smiling. "Open it!"

He untied the red ribbon slowly, laying it across his knee, and unrolled the painting. He smiled upon seeing it.

"I found that carved in an oak tree in the woods, Sam. You wouldn't happen to know who did the carving, would you?"

"I carved it that summer, Quinn, so long ago. So your answer is..._yes_?" he questioned.

"Yes, Sam, I'd be so happy to get to know you better," she said quietly.

The rest of the evening they were inseparable, mingling with the other young couples, Quinn introducing him to her distant relatives, dancing the occasional dance, purposefully trying to get caught under the mistletoe. When she stretched up on her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek, he was pretty sure that was one of the sweetest things that had ever happened to him.

_xxxxx_

As the party wound down, the girls donned their cloaks and the boys walked them out to the cabins. Since it was so late and so cold, David Harter was staying in Sam's cabin and James Martin was staying with the brothers. At the girls' cabin, Sam squeezed her hand quickly before going to his cabin with Joseph. David Harter and Anne shared a kiss on the porch and Sam wondered again what it would be like to actually kiss Quinn. The occupants of both cabins built up their fires and made cups of hot chocolate.

"When do you think you'll get married, David?" Sam asked.

"Soon, I would guess," he answered. "I hope!"

"Do you think Quinny is pretty like the girl in your picture?" Joseph asked Sam.

"Very much so, Joe," Sam replied, smiling at the thought of Quinn.

"I think Mary Highwood is pretty. She's a girl at school," Joseph told them.

David and Sam laughed. "Maybe you'll be the next to get married, young sir!" David said.

Joseph laughed. "I don't think so, Mr. Harter!"

That night, when Sam slept, his dreams were full of Quinn Amelia Fabray.

_xxxxx_

"When do you think you'll get married, Aunt Anne?" Kate asked her.

"I hope soon! How exciting was that? I honestly didn't expect it to happen tonight..." she gushed.

"Tonight was a lovely evening," Quinn said wistfully, smiling.

"James Martin kissed me...on the mouth!" Kate squealed.

Quinn was shocked. "Where? How?"

"We stole away for a brief moment. We've been courting now for 3 months; I felt it was time."

"Well? What was it like sister?" Quinn asked.

Kate giggled. "Cold! I made him follow me to the corner of the porch and it happened there!"

Quinn and Anne also giggled. "I'm pretty sure I saw Peyton steal a kiss from Martha tonight also," Quinn told them.

"I'm surprised he didn't propose tonight; supposedly, he has asked Mr. Hudson for Martha's hand!" Kate said.

"I'm sure it'll happen soon enough; Peyton is smitten with that girl," Quinn said, suddenly wondering if Finn felt for Elizabeth Sinclair like she did for Sam Evans. If so, she could now understand why he had eloped. She was also suddenly exhausted; it had been an eventful evening. She crawled into the bed with her sister and aunt and drifted off to sleep, thinking of Sam Evans.

_xxxxx_

The next day was Christmas. They got up early and attended a church service at the meetinghouse and then returned to the big house to catch up on chores and visit with remaining family. Some relatives had already left to attend other holiday parties and others had to return to their own homesteads. Quinn knew Sam was working in the workshop since he had had the entire day before off. She also remembered that Sam, her father, and Peyton were taking a trip to Lynchburg in three days and would be gone for a week.

For Christmas, Quinn received a book of poetry from her parents. After supper, she asked Sam if he'd join her in the sitting room, which he did and listened to her read poems from her new book.

His thoughts had been consumed by her since the night of the Christmas party. He tried hard to throw himself into his work to keep busy following the party but couldn't keep his mind off her.

His mind had been on her in more ways than one. When his company finally went back to the main house, that being Joseph, and he was alone for the first time in several nights, he lay in his bed, eyes closed, remembering how she kissed him on his cheek, how he had kissed her. He let his mind drift to most likely improper thoughts involving Quinn but couldn't turn his mind off. He used his hand on himself that night, working himself into an erection, exploding at the thought of kissing her on the mouth. It had just been too long, he realized, since letting himself feel that way. He and his late wife had had marital relations a handful of times before she fell ill. After she died, he wanted to never think about such a thing again, but he knew it would catch up with him and it did, three nights after the Christmas party. He was getting hard just thinking about Quinn and finally exposed his penis massaging himself into a full erection (at his father's farm in North Carolina, he had his half-brothers had found a medical book detailing anatomy of the male and female, thus he knew the name of the organ, but he had also heard it referred to as one's cock, prick, jimmy, chub). As he stiffened, he worked the foreskin back, exposing the head of his penis. He felt powerful stroking himself, his manhood hard in his hand. He grunted when he came, rubbing the skin up and over the head until the feeling started to die down. Then, he was ashamed of what he had done, thinking about another woman and doing what he did while the picture of his late wife sat by his bedside. He turned his back to the picture and cried silently, the guilt overwhelming. When he woke up the next morning, he knew what it was time to do, if he was ever going to have a relationship with Quinn. He picked up the picture of Elizabeth, kissed it, and put it away.

_xxxxx_

On the morning they left for their Bedford/Lynchburg venture, Quinn again brought the lunch pails to the wagon as Sam was loading it.

"G'morning, Mr. Evans!" she said cheerfully, though it was snowing and bitterly cold.

"Quinn!" He was surprised to see her but then again not. "Come into the warmth."

She followed him into the workshop, her first time actually being where he spent so many hours. He kept it neat and tidy, organized. The painting she gave him at the Christmas party was framed on his counter. He saw her glance at it.

"I'm taking it to my cabin...just needed to put some finishing touches on it," he said, quietly. She stepped up to it and examined the frame, running her finger over the carving, hearts entwined with ribbons. He stepped up behind her.

"I'll miss you, Quinn," he whispered. She could feel his breath drift across her ear. She turned to face him, the hood of her cloak dropping back. He wanted so badly to take her in his arms and kiss her fully on her bright red lips but held back, knowing that the workshop was not the time nor the place for such behavior. He had placed his hands on the counter behind her, on either side of her hips.

"I'll miss you, too, Sam," she said. She slowly ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders and embraced him tightly, her cheek warm against his. He slowly, hesitantly, moved his hands from the counter and under her cloak around her waist, feeling her stays underneath his fingers as he hugged her back. He kissed her quickly on the cheek and pulled away from her.

"I...I need to...to finish loading up..." he mumbled.

"Safe travels," she whispered and she was gone from the workshop.

She went directly to her room and cried the rest of the day.

_xxxxx_

Later that evening in Bedford (Thomas Fabray got a hotel room for him, Sam, and Peyton due to the severe weather conditions), Sam took his coat off and draped it over a chair. It fell off and when he picked it up upside down, a folded piece of paper fell out of the pocket. He picked it up and saw it was addressed to "Samuel" in a lady's handwriting. The only lady he had been close to recently was Quinn.

He sat in the chair at the desk and opened the letter slowly in the candlelight.

_My dearest Samuel,_

_I hope you find this missive I stealthily hid in your pocket as we embraced. I shall miss you terribly while you are gone with pa and Peyton. It is much easier for me to express in writing how I feel than trying to stutter and stammer during our all-too-brief time together. The night you asked for my courtship was maybe one of the happiest nights of my life. Just thinking of it now causes me to smile greatly. I'll be thinking of you whilst you're away. Is Samuel your given Christian name?_

_With my deepest affection,_

_Quinn Amelia_

The letter was dated that very day, January 5th, 1817. He told Thomas he'd be right back and went to the front desk of the hotel. He asked for a piece of paper and pencil and wrote a quick response to Quinn.

_Dear Quinn Amelia,_

_I recieved your message that you hid in my pokcet. Your words have warmed this cold eve in B'ford. I do miss you terribly and think of you nearly every minute, wihsing I could stare into your green eyes, hear your voice reading me poetry, hold you in an embrace. My given name is Samuel._

_Until we are together agian,_

_Samuel_

He folded the letter, addressed it, and left it with the hotel clerk to be mailed the next day. Back in the room, sharing a bed with Peyton, listening to Thomas snore from the other bed, Sam wondered if he had been too forward in his message to Quinn. _It's too late now_, he thought and fell asleep.

Business was booming for Fabray Fine Goods in Bedford. The next two days of travel were hell, though. The three men had to try to find room in the wagon amongst the furniture to sleep. They wound up sleeping sitting up and being very cold.

"Pa, maybe we need to find somewhere between Bedford and Lynchburg to stay overnight on these trips," Peyton suggested.

"I'll see what I can do," Thomas muttered.

They arrived in Lynchburg in the evening and thankfully were able to rent a hotel room. Sam wondered if his letter had made it to Quinn yet.

_xxxxx_

When her father, Peyton, and Sam had been gone four days, her mother came to her room with a folded letter.

"You have mail, Quinny," she said. "I hope to see you out of bed today."

"Mother, it's that time," Quinn said. It was a small white lie; she was miserable with Sam's absence but didn't want to let the family know.

"I see. Well, if you're feeling better, please make an appearance at suppertime," her mother told her, seeing through her lie. She turned to leave Quinn's bedchamber.

"Ma…" Quinn called after her. She sat up in her bed as her mother returned and sat on the edge.

"Yes Quinn?"

Quinn picked at her quilt, looked at the letter very obviously sent from her suitor. "When you and papa courted, was he often away from you?"

Her mother inhaled, thinking back to those days. "There were times we were apart during our courtship. And times we are apart during our marriage, such as now. Life goes on, though, Quinny. And if you trust in your relationship with Sam you should know he'll be coming home to you soon. Distance can be a good thing sometimes." She could tell her daughter was missing him.

"You have a letter to read. I'll leave you in private," her mother said, again going to the door. "Believe in the strength of your bond with him, Quinn." She closed the door softly.

Quinn sighed and looked at her letter. His letters were scrawled; he had spelled 'Franklin County' as 'Franlkin County'. She peeled the wax seal carefully and read his words to her. _Samuel_, she thought, _his given name is Samuel_. She smiled, wiped the stray tears away, and got up to get dressed.

_xxxxx_

Thomas, Peyton, and Sam arrived at the general store first thing in the morning. While Thomas conducted business with the proprietor, Peyton and Sam looked around the store. Peyton made Sam look at the wedding rings; he was trying to decide which one to choose to present to Martha.

"Maybe you should let her choose one?" Sam asked.

"Let a woman choose? I think not!" Peyton scoffed. "She'll be filled with joy with whichever one I choose."

Sam shrugged and wandered off to look at the boots.

The shop owner told Thomas all the furniture had sold. Peyton and Sam then helped unload the inventory in the wagon and picked up orders placed since the last letter. Sam paid for a new pair of boots, and Peyton paid for a gold wedding ring he bought for Martha that he was fairly sure would fit her finger. They ate a quick lunch at the small tavern in town and talked about the future of Fabray Fine Goods and how to expand it.

"I think we need to bring two wagons next time," Sam said. "One for inventory and one for sleeping if we can't find room and board on the way here."

"Should we expand to Richmond?" Thomas asked them.

"Maybe when the weather is better, pa," Peyton said.

"What about Roanoke?" Sam asked.

They talked some more about new ideas for Thomas' venture and then were back on the bumpy road to home.

The return trip to the Fabray farm took longer than usual. A snowstorm hit and the three men were forced to find some sort of shelter. They finally made their way to the nearest farmhouse they could find, following the trail of smoke from the chimney. The old farmer there said they were just outside Rocky Mount. The man said he could only put them up for a night and that was in the barn. Thomas Fabray offered him money for his trouble. In view of that, he told them to stable their horses and he'd find room in his house for them to sleep. He lived there alone with his elderly wife. Thomas, Peyton, and Sam had to make due in the room that acted as the front room of the three-room house. Sam didn't care; it was infinitely better than sleeping in the cold wagon. He only hoped that Quinn and the rest of her family weren't worried about them.

On the day they were expected back, Quinn waited anxiously, pacing around the house. A snowstorm had moved through, and her mother explained to her that she was sure they had had to stop. One thing Quinn was quickly coming to realize, she did not like being apart from Sam Evans.

The day after the storm, Sam and Peyton checked outside and estimated a foot of new snow had fallen. They trudged outside to do the chores for the elderly couple and came in to a wonderful breakfast.

"The road is not passable, pa," Peyton told Thomas. The elderly couple told them they could stay as long as the young men continued to take care of the outside chores. Sam was thankful he had brought his journal along. After doing the chores, there was not much else to do.

_January 9th, 1817...stradned at a farm outside Rocky Mt due to hevvy snofall. Peyt and I must do the chores. Missing a certain someone._

_January 10th, 1817...still at the Butler farm...too cold to melt the sno...have tried not to eat so much, limited foodstuff...wish I was home, listening to Quinn read poetry. I wonder if she's thouhgt of me._

_January 11th, 1817...tried to get the rig out, road is still too bad...stayed at Butlers again. Peyt and I shov'l'd the drive out to the road._

_January 12th, 1817...the sun appeered! reddy to sleep in my own bed. I miss seeing Quinn. trying to get home tmrw._

_January 13th, 1817...made it to the Fabray farm, in my cabin, in my bed. Held Quinn in a wamr embrace, didn't realise how cold I had been all those days._

Finally, after being gone for eight days, the men were able to make it home, late in the evening. Quinn and Kate sat with their mother in the sitting room, silently working on mending, when they heard the horses coming down the drive. They threw on their cloaks and gathered on the front porch, welcoming the men home. Sam was at the reins and slowed the wagon down, seeing the ladies on the porch. He hopped off the wagon and went directly to Quinn, hugging her close to him. She wrapped her cloak around him and whispered _welcome home_.

"I've missed you," he answered. He let go of her to return to the wagon as that needed to be put up and the team cared for. She grasped his hand, stopping him.

"Come to the kitchen when you're done, Sam," she told him, letting go of his hand.

Thomas and Peyton were being doted on by her mother and sister so she hugged her father and brother, as well, and led them into the house, listening to their tale of being stranded.

In the kitchen, she put on hot water for tea and waited on Sam. He returned to the house after unhitching the wagon and stabling the horses. She had hot tea and biscuits ready for him. They sat at the expansive dining room table, him at the end and she to his right, talking.

"Did you get my post? I sent it from Bedford," he asked her.

"I did receive it, thank you," she replied, sipping the tea. "We were so worried about you all."

"I'm happy to be home," he said. She realized he called her house his _home_. "The furniture is selling very well in Bedford and Lynchburg. We might try Roanoke next." His hand was resting on the table, and she gently traced her finger over his knuckles, then turned his hand over and traced the lines of his palm. He was somewhat taken aback by the suddenness of her gentle touch.

"My hands are rough," he muttered, not sure what to say.

"So much hard work, so much living," she said quietly.

He swallowed. "I s'pose so." He responded by tracing his finger over her hand, then her palm. "Your skin is soft, dainty." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

His touch was doing something to her, something foreign. She barely heard him mention her skin, which would be inappropriate even while courting. The butterfly feeling was in her tummy again, moving farther south. He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, again watching her as he kissed her there. She gasped a little, feeling his lips on her skin. He watched her reaction to his kiss and suddenly realized he needed to distance himself from her. She beat him to it, though.

"Sam, I...I think I need to retire for the evening," she said, barely above a whisper. She pulled her hand away and ran off toward the staircase. It was probably for the best in his case that she left first; he was erect under the table. He finished his tea and biscuit and went to his cabin, exhausted.

_xxxxx_

Upstairs, her sister was already asleep, snoring even. Quinn removed her day clothing and crawled into her bed in her chemise, laying there thinking about Sam and how she felt. Whatever happened between them at the table had caused a nearly unbearable heat between her legs, something she had never felt before. It wasn't painful, more of a pleasurable feeling. She slid her hand beneath her quilts and to the soft area that had been so aroused by his touch. She knew that that was where babies came from and assumed that that was where they were created, not sure of the mechanics though. She was uneasy about touching herself there but had to, confused as to why the feeling had washed over her with Sam. It was definitely a warm place and she was shocked to find it very wet to her finger. She explored herself, never really even looking at the area before. She closed her eyes and the thought crossed her mind, _is this what men do with women?_ And even more of a scary thought, _is this something Sam wants to do to me?_Surely, he didn't have such impure thoughts but he probably thought she didn't either yet here she was touching herself and thinking of him. She finally realized she was moving her fingers against something there that was increasingly arousing. She thought of Sam, him touching her hand, then kissing her hand, their embrace on the porch, and she thought of him putting his lips on hers and something snapped within her, leaving her breathless and writhing against her hand. When she had recollected her thoughts, she wondered if she'd have that reaction when they really did kiss for the first time. She knew what she had to do and that was stop thinking these things. She felt they were sinful in a way and decided she needed to read her Bible a lot more.

_xxxxx_

The next few weeks passed in typical fashion during wintertime on a farm. Sam threw himself into work and training Peyton who thankfully was a quick learner; Thomas decided to take no more trips until the bad weather passed. Then, a warm spell hit and he wanted to go to Roanoke. Quinn was very much keeping her distance from Sam. She'd see him at suppertime but then retreat to her room to study, she said. He knew she was preparing to take her final tests to finish school and hoped he hadn't overstepped any boundaries the night they returned after the snowstorm.

He caught her alone in the kitchen one evening after supper. It was early March; spring was almost there. She had missed talking to him but had forced herself to keep her distance after the night she had impure thoughts of him. She felt his presence behind her as she stood at the counter preparing vegetables for a soup for the next day.

"Have I done something to upset you, Quinn?" he asked quietly. How badly she just wanted to turn around and kiss him. She refrained, though, as hard as it was to do.

"Of course not, Sam. I've been very busy with my studies. I take my tests in two weeks and then I shall be done," she said, looking at the potatoes she was peeling.

"You've seemed...distant...for awhile. I hope I didn't offend you in some way," he said to her.

She shook her head and quietly mumbled _no_.

He put his hand at the small of her back and slowly moved it upward to her shoulder, turning her toward him slightly.

"Might you read some poetry to me this evening?" he asked. He looked quite forlorn to her, not threatening or angry. She smiled at him.

"Meet me in the sitting room shortly and yes, I'll read," she said. He smiled back and left her with the potatoes.

_xxxxx_

A couple weeks later, Quinn took her final tests at school and passed. A ceremony was planned a week later for her and the other two students who completed their studies. The day she received the news, she ran directly to the workshop to tell Sam but he was not there. She ran to his cabin and knocked. He opened the door shirtless, a rag over his shoulder, his beard half shaved.

"You surprised me. I don't typically receive guests out here," he said.

"I'm sorry...I'll tell you later then..." She began to leave but he called her back.

"Quinn, you can stay, just maybe here on the porch...what is it that you need to tell me?" He stepped out on the porch with her, wiping his face off, and closing the door behind him.

"Why aren't you in the workshop?" she asked.

"We have enough inventory; your pa wants me to help out around the farm today. I finally got him to let me have a tub here in my cabin so I can bathe occasionally," he laughed. "We're going to Roanoke next week, I believe."

Her face fell. "Oh, I see. I received word today that I passed my testing; I've completed school."

"Congratulations Quinn!" He picked her up and swung her around, then realized he was still shirtless and put her down quickly. "Why aren't you happy about that?"

"The commencement ceremony is next week; I was going to invite you but you'll be in Roanoke," she said, frowning. In that instant, he could see the little girl he had met in the forest, the day he teased her about playing with dolls. Disappointment.

"Have you told your pa yet? Maybe he can postpone the trip to Roanoke?" Sam suggested.

"I'll discuss it with him, but I doubt he'll change his plans," she said a bit sadly but then smiled. "I just thought you'd like to know."

"I did want to know...thank you for bringing me the joyous news, Quinn," he said, watching as she ran back toward the main house.

She waited until after supper to approach her father about her commencement ceremony.

"Papa, I received good news today...I passed all my tests to finish school," she said, smiling. She was sitting on a small footstool at his feet, something she had not done since she was a young girl. After supper, Sam had left the house and went to the workshop. He slipped Quinn a small note asking her to meet him there after she spoke with her father.

"Job well done, my sweet lass," he said, smiling down at her.

"The school is having a ceremony for the three of us who have completed our studies," she went on. "It is to be held Friday next."

"Oh," he said, his brow furrowing. "I believe I'll be to Roanoke; your mother and sister and brothers will attend in my absence."

"Oh father! I so wished you'd be there as well!" she cried. She hoped tears from his eldest daughter would sway his decision.

"Darling, I do wish to attend! The trip to Roanoke is very important, plans are in place already...your mother will tell me all about it when I return!" he said and turned back to his reading, signaling the conversation was over. She sighed and stood up and left the room. She pulled on her shawl and slipped out to the workshop. The tears on her face told Sam all he needed to know.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn. I wanted to be there for you," he said, picking up her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"I'm sorry, too, Sam," She squeezed his hand and ran back to the house before her parents realized she was missing.

_xxxxx_

The day before they were to leave for their Roanoke trip and the day before Quinn's commencement ceremony, Sam sought her out before the noon-hour meal in the sitting room, reading the Bible quietly, alone.

"Miss Quinn?" he asked quietly, gripping his hat in his hands. Occasionally, he still referred to her with her title, usually when he was nervous.

She looked up sharply, not knowing he was there. "Hello Samuel," she said and smiled, putting her book down. He walked over to where she sat.

"Have you had dinner?" he asked.

"Not yet, no," she replied.

"Then I have a surprise for you!" He offered her his hand; she took it and stood up. "You might need your shawl; it's still a bit cool." She pulled it from the hook by the front door and tied her bonnet into place. He led her to the front porch where he had parked her buckboard. He helped her up into it and then took over at the reins, leading the carriage down her drive to the road.

"And what is this surprise?" she asked, smiling.

"You'll see..."

He drove them to a large meadow not too far from her house but out of view. "I found this meadow the other day while exercising Clyde...I thought it was beautiful...I wanted to share its beauty with you."

He stopped the carriage and tied the horses to a tree. From the back, he pulled a picnic basket and old quilt and helped her down.

"Sam Evans, you are full of surprises!" He didn't let go of her hand until they found a well-lit spot a good distance from the horses. He spread out the quilt and motioned for her to sit down. He sat down as well and began pulling their lunch from the basket.

"Before you get worried about your parents finding out about this, your ma helped me put the lunch together; she approved this picnic," he told her. In other words, Quinn's mother had given them the okay to actually be alone together.

"I see..." Quinn replied. "Thank you, Sam. This was very thoughtful."

"I wanted you to know I'll be thinking of you tomorrow, when I can't be at your ceremony. We should be back within a week though and I want you to tell me all about it."

"I can tell you about the tests I had to take, if you'd like to know about those," she said.

"When I went to my father's farm, he didn't allow me to go to school. I'd very much like to hear about your tests," Sam said. He had always regretted not finishing school, though it was his father's decision, not his.

Quinn told him about the different exams she had to take, covering mathematics, history, reading, spelling, grammar. She had had to give an oral presentation, in which she talked about the pilgrims at Plymouth Rock. And, part of her final grade was an art project. "Someday I'll show you the painting. I painted it on muslin. Did you know you could paint on muslin?"

"No, I didn't know that. I'd really like to see it," he said.

"It's actually a portrait, a bit abstract," she told him.

After they finished their lunch, he asked if she'd like to take a walk before they returned to her house. Spring was in full bloom, and it was a lovely day, just a little cool, a light breeze, but lots of sunshine, the meadow covered in flowers.

They walked hand in hand through the meadow, Quinn pulling wildflowers here and there until she had a pretty bouquet put together.

"I'll give these to mother," she said quietly.

He stopped her in the middle of the wide rolling meadow amongst all the wildflowers, holding both her hands in his. When he would remember that day, he'd always remember how small her hands felt in his.

"I really wanted to be at your commencement, Quinn," he said, looking down at her. He really hadn't planned this happening but it did. Her lips were parted just a bit and on impulse he leaned down and kissed her gently, feeling her respond to his kiss.

In a way, she wasn't surprised when he kissed her finally. She had been waiting for it for some time and then it was just perfect, the place, the timing, them alone. His lips lingered on hers for a moment and she got lost in how soft and full and warm his mouth was. He pulled back from her, and she was breathless, feeling the way she had felt the night at the table, the warm feeling coursing through her again.

She was at a loss for words, as was he.

Finally, she whispered, "I know...I know you wanted to be there."

They didn't move from where they stood, both looking down at the ground, him holding her hands still.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. I shouldn't have...shouldn't have done that..." he said quietly.

She looked up at him, and he kissed her again. This time, she reached up and wrapped her hand around his neck, holding him to her. He knew he had to stop; he was getting rigid and didn't want her to notice. He broke the kiss.

"Um, I think we should be getting back now," he said, taking her hand and leading her back to the quilt. He helped her put everything back in the basket and he put that in the buggy while she folded the quilt. She joined him at the carriage, carrying the folded quilt.

"Thank you, Sam," she whispered, and he helped her up into the buckboard. He didn't know what to say. Even kissing his late wife had not caused such a strong reaction in him. He knew then he was falling for Quinn Fabray and falling hard.

_xxxxx_

The kisses from his picnic with Quinn got him through his trip to Roanoke with her father and brother. He thought of her the entire next day as they traveled, hating the fact that he had to miss something very special to her. The trip there took 2-1/2 days. They stopped at the town Boone's Mill the first night, thankfully finding lodging and even sold a couple chairs to the owner of the lodge. They got to Roanoke the evening of the second day of traveling. He sent her a quick note from Roanoke.

_Dearest Quinn Amelia,_

_Have arrived in Ronoke this eve. I only sleep to dream of you. Thought of you yesterday all day. I was with you in my thoughts, my dear._

_Until you are in my arms agian,_

_Samuel_

She received his note two days later and cried when she read his words to her.

_xxxxx_

They arrived home five days after they left. She was awaiting his arrival on the porch when she heard the team coming down the drive. Again, he left the wagon and practically ran to the porch to embrace her. After putting the wagon up and stabling the horses, he came in through the kitchen where she had hot tea and biscuits waiting on him.

"I want to hear all about it, Quinn. What did I miss? Did you get my letter?" He was bubbling over with happiness to see her, even though he was tired from driving all day. They sat down at the dining room table.

"I received your letter, Sam. Your words always make me so happy," she told him. "I wrote you, as well, but doubted it'd have time to reach you so..." She pulled a folded note from the pocket of her apron and slid it across the table to him. "Read it alone."

He looked at the note and then at her. "Okay...tell me about your ceremony."

She told him it was her and two other boys, James Martin being one of them. The schoolteacher had received certificates from Richmond, the state capitol of Virginia. She had discussed with the guests what the three students had had to accomplish to receive the certificate. She said her mother, Kate, her younger brothers, her grandmother, Aunt Anne and David Harter were all in attendance. She told Sam that when James Martin's name was called Kate was bawling; Quinn giggled about that.

"May I see your certificate?" he asked her.

"Of course..." she went to the sitting room and returned with a piece of thick parchment paper stating "Certificate of Completion of a Course of Study" and her name Quinn Amelia Fabray and the date, March 31, 1817. Her teacher had signed it, as well as the governor of Virginia. Sam was very impressed with her accomplishment and wished more than anything that he had been there to see her receive it.

"Congratulations, dear," he whispered and planted a kiss on her hand. It did not go unnoticed; he had used a term of endearment. He looked at the document again, mentally sizing it up, 8 inches across and about 12 inches down.

He left for his cabin after a few more moments talking about their trip to Roanoke. Taking off his coat, he felt the letter folded in his pocket from Quinn.

_Dear Samuel,_

_Today was my commencement. Even though I missed you something fierce, I was happy. I was happy because you were with me! In my thoughts. When they called my name, I saw you smiling for me. I know you were unable to attend in person but you were there in spirit, in my heart._

_My deepest affection,_

_Quinn Amelia_

Even as he dropped into his bed from pure exhaustion, he had a smile on his face.

_xxxxx_

The next day, he brought the gift he had bought for Quinn on their first trip to Lynchburg with him to the house. He found Patsy who gave him a blue ribbon to use to tie the gift up.

"Are you givin' dem to her yerself?" Patsy asked him.

"I thought I'd leave them here for her to find," he said.

"Oh no, no, no! When givin' a gift, you give it yerself! No hidin' it! Dis is no scavenger hunt!" she said, and he laughed. She was right. He'd present it to her himself.

Later that evening, after supper, she offered to read to him in the sitting room. He had the gift in his inside coat pocket, waiting for the right time to give it to her.

She was reading some poem titled the Hymn of Darkness when he interrupted her.

"I have something for you," he said. She was tired of the Hymn of Darkness and was glad he said something.

"You do? Whatever for?" she asked.

He reached inside his coat pocket and handed her his gift, a set of paintbrushes. "For finishing your studies. I'm so proud of you, Quinn."

He was the only one who had given her a present for finishing school. "Thank you, Sam. I'll surely put these to good use."

"Can I see the portrait you painted? On muslin?" he asked. She looked up at him from her seat on the little footstool, tears in her eyes.

"Let me go fetch it," she said quietly, going upstairs.

She returned with the portrait. She had used brass tacks to affix it to a thin piece of wood. She handed it to him hesitantly after looking at it herself one more time.

He gazed at the portrait; it was obviously of him. The colors were muted on the muslin; he guessed that's what she meant by abstract. It was him working on creating a cradle in the workshop, in blue trousers and white shirt. In the portrait, he was bent forward, looking down at the tiny cradle so his facial features weren't prominent though he could make out eyebrows and lips and bridge of his nose. Sunlight from a window poured over the countertop at an angle down to the cradle.

"How? When?" he said finally, looking up at her as she stood before him.

"I saw you one day working when you had the doors open and used you as my inspiration," she answered. Then, quietly, "Do you like it?"

"You remembered all that detail from seeing me once? It's astounding, Quinn," he said.

"Can you frame it for me?" she asked shyly, blushing now.

"Of course, I'd be honored to do so," he said, looking at it again.

After a few quiet minutes, he said, "I'd better be going...it's getting late."

She walked him to the back door.

"G'night Quinn..." he said quietly and kissed her on the forehead. He ran down the few steps and she watched his shadow move toward his cabin.

"Goodnight, dear," she muttered to herself.


	7. Weddings

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 7-Weddings**

**Franklin County, Virginia, April/May 1817**

In mid April, Peyton came home from Martha Hudson's with news. He had asked her to marry him, and she had answered _yes_. Sam knew this was going to happen since Peyton had been talking to him about it nonstop in the workshop. Sam thought he'd finally get to the meet the elusive Finn Hudson; he wondered how Quinn would react to seeing him again.

Quinn's mother had also received word that Anne Palmer and David Harter were being married in 2 weeks. At suppertime, there was a feeling of excitement at the Fabray household.

Kate pouted through the meal.

"Please stop with the dour expression, Catherine," her mother said.

"I just wish James Martin would be so kind as to ask for my hand!" Sam about choked on a green bean. Quinn was just as shocked.

Thomas turned an odd shade of purple and asked her how old she was.

"Fifteen and almost one-half," she answered.

"Even if Mr. Martin were to ask _me _for your hand, I'd put my foot down, young lady, and the answer would be no! Not until your 18!"

That, of course, upset Kate and she ran to her room crying. Sam thought sometimes it might be best to eat alone in his cabin.

And then Quinn spoke up. "Eighteen, papa? Isn't that a little...old?"

Quinn questioning her father's acceptable age of marriage for his daughters commanded the entire table's attention, including Sam who again nearly choked on his food. Not only had Sam not really considered marriage, he still had not told Quinn or her father about his previous marriage.

"That goes for you, too, young lass!" Thomas said.

"Papa!" she cried and left the table for her room. Sam was blushing and staring down at his plate.

"You'll have to excuse my daughters, Mr. Evans. With all this talk of marriage, they appear to be a bit overdramatic," Mrs. Fabray said to Sam.

"Yes'm, I understand," he muttered. He excused himself and returned to his cabin.

_xxxxx_

In their bedchamber, Quinn asked Kate if she thought she and James Martin would be married eventually.

"I should think so; he said he loves me more than all the stars in the heavens," Kate whimpered.

"That's so beautiful, sister. I certainly hope he becomes your husband in the future. Maybe papa will change his mind?" Quinn wondered aloud, knowing in her heart that he most likely wouldn't. "Sam finally kissed me!"

"He did? When? What was it like?"

"Before my commencement ceremony, in the meadow down the way. It was a wondrous feeling, sister!" Quinn gushed.

"I agree!"

"Ma and pa were young once...they were married when she was 16 and he 18!" Quinn said.

"What about you? If Sam asked for your hand?" Kate asked her.

"Oh...I wouldn't know what to say! I've only known him a few months!"

"Come now, sister...I've seen the way he looks at you and when they return from a trip he barely stops the wagon before running to you!"

Quinn smiled to herself. She had noticed that herself.

"I think the supper conversation frightened him a bit; he nearly choked!" Quinn said, trying to contain a giggle.

"You two look so nice together, like you were meant to be," Kate told her. "What date do you think Martha Hudson will choose for her wedding to brother?"

"I'm not sure..." Quinn said quietly, the realization hitting her that she would most likely see Finn and Elizabeth Hudson at that wedding. It was the first time she had thought of him in months. Sam had a way of making her forget him.

Quinn and Kate found out the next day that their brother Peyton would be getting married on May 15, 1817. After supper that night, Quinn asked Sam if he'd sit on the front porch with her. They sat together on the porch swing, pushing it slowly.

"I'm sorry about last night's topic of conversation, Sam," Quinn began.

"I understand, Quinn," he said quietly.

They swung quietly for a bit longer and Quinn asked him, "Would you like to escort me to my aunt's wedding?" She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting on his answer. She had never been so forward with a boy before. She felt his hand slide into hers.

"It'd be my honor, Miss Quinn," he said, squeezing her hand gently.

He thought about the night before at the dining room table. Quinn had seemed flustered by her father's edict that no daughter of his would be married before 18. Sam had retreated to his cabin then and took his journal out to write.

_The topic of mariage was brought up t'night at supper. I haven't even given mariage a thought but it made me realize that Quinn doesn't know about Liz. I didn't think I could feel the same way ab't another lady like I did for Liz but now Quinn is in my life and I find myself questoining that. Tis diff'rent though. With Liz, she felt more like a sister to me, it was easy, she was like an open book. With Quinn, it almost borders on passion, she's hard to read sometimes. Will I ever feel that famil'r with Quinn? I don't have an anwser now._

He did know that it was true that he wanted to get to know Quinn better. He thought his mother and late wife would approve of his choice.

_xxxxx_

It was the day of Anne Palmer's wedding, which was being held at Granny Palmer's house. Her house was located down the road from the Fabrays; Sam had never been there. It was a farmhouse, a lot like his grandmother Feazel's. As they were courting, he drove Quinn over there in her buckboard, just as Peyton picked up Martha Hudson and James Martin picked up Kate. This was the day that they were announcing to other family and friends that they shared a courtship. It was well known within the Fabray family that Sam and Quinn were, in fact, courting, but the general public was not yet aware.

Quinn wore a baby blue silk gown that usually Kate wore, but she let Kate wear her pale green dress. She was waiting on the front porch on Sam, twirling a matching parasol. He stopped the buggy and came around to walk her down off the porch and help her up into the small wagon.

When he got behind the reins, he asked, "Are you excited for your aunt?"

"Very much so. It's a perfect day for a wedding," she said, glancing at him. He wore his grandfather's suit that day because the woolen suit would've been too hot. She still thought he looked handsome, smiling back at her and tipping his hat.

At Granny Palmer's, he parked the buggy and helped Quinn out of it. They walked toward the guests gathered around seats in the side yard. She gripped his elbow, feeling the muscle bulge there. As they walked toward the crowd together, he could feel her skirts swishing against his legs. For some reason, he always thought of that as very intimate. As they walked together, he looked down at her tiny hand, dressed in a white lace glove, in the crook of his elbow and thought he could stay that way forever, with her by his side. That feeling came out of nowhere, he blinked, and tried to remember Quinn's relatives' names as she introduced him.

They took seats behind her parents and waited for the ceremony to begin. Anne had no one escort her down the aisle to David Harter. She wore the rose-colored gown she had worn at Christmastime when he proposed. David smiled at her as she made her way toward him. After the prayers and vows and exchanging of the rings, they kissed chastely and left the altar to return to the house where they'd receive their guests.

Sam turned to Quinn to find her quietly crying, dabbing at her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. He had been married at his cabin in Kentucky with only Elizabeth's family in attendance so an actual wedding ceremony really didn't get to him as it was obviously getting to her. He had learned early on to not question a crying female, so he held her hand and said, "That was a beautiful ceremony, don't you agree?"

She nodded, smiling. She was so happy for her aunt; she couldn't wait to talk to her privately about how she felt going through the wedding ceremony. As they made their way to the house, she found Kate and hugged her, both crying, as was Martha Hudson.

Sam walked along with Peyton and James Martin. "Boy, this sure brought on the waterworks, didn't it?" James said to the other two who nodded in agreement.

Finally, Quinn dried up her tears and got in line with Sam to offer congratulations to the newlyweds.

"It was just lovely, Anne. I'm so happy for you," Quinn told her aunt.

"Thank you, Quinny. It's so nice to see you and Sam here," she said, smiling.

Sam shook their hands and mumbled _congratulations_. He never knew what to say or do in these situations.

They moved on through the house and got little cups of punch and small plates of fruitcake and went back outside to sit in the shade.

"I've never been to a real wedding before," Sam told her.

"I haven't been to one since I was a little girl..." she said. "Martha Hudson sure is getting excited!" They both glanced over at Peyton and Martha and it appeared Martha was talking his ear off, undoubtedly about ideas for their upcoming nuptials.

"Shall I be your escort to that event, as well?" he asked, smiling.

"I would very much like that, Samuel," she said, returning the smile.

He took a chance and asked the next question. "Do you ever see yourself being married?"

It caught her off guard. "There was a time when I thought it was not the right choice for me. I could be persuaded, though," she said, playing coy. He wondered if she was referring to the time when she found out Finn had eloped with another girl.

They heard the fiddler warming up his instrument, the cue that dancing was about to begin.

"Shall we?" he asked. She nodded, and he stood up, helping her up. They returned their dishware to the kitchen and followed the fiddle and piano music.

They watched the newly married David and Anne Harter dance the first dance to the piano being played by Granny Palmer. Other couples joined in the dance. As they were courting now, Sam didn't have to ask Quinn for every dance; it was implied that he was her partner. She took his hand as he led her to a place to dance. It was a country version of the minuet, not as complicated as what was performed in high society. Sam actually enjoyed following the steps and gazing at her as they moved through the motions. Quinn enjoyed it, as well; Sam was a fine dancer and he never took his eyes off her.

After several more dances and mingling with the other guests, David and Anne were planning to leave for their wedding trip to Lynchburg to visit David's family. Quinn hugged Anne once more and Anne promised to write her. They left amidst cheers and waving. Quinn had to help with cleanup inside the home; the men put away chairs and tables that had been used outside.

The long day finally came to an end, and Sam drove Quinn back to her home.

"Thank you for escorting me, Mr. Evans," she said.

He smiled, removing his hat and bowing deeply. "My honor, Miss Quinn."

He walked her to the front door. Her parents were home and sitting on the porch swing.

"Thank you for a lovely day, Quinn," he said and kissed her chastely on the cheek and waited for her to enter the house. She was smiling as she did.

He turned to go back to the buckboard, but her parents stopped him.

"May we have a moment, Mr. Evans?" Miranda asked.

He felt the blush rise up his cheeks to his ears.

"Certainly, Missus Fabray," Sam said and sat down in a chair near them.

"Sam, what might your intentions be?" her father asked him.

"Sir?"

"Toward my Quinny...your intentions, boy..."

Sam cleared his throat. "I'd like to get to know her better, sir."

"We don't know much about _you_, though. Tell us about yourself," Thomas inquired.

"My mother was Elizabeth Feazel; she died 8 days after I was born," Sam began, desperately trying to think of a way to explain his previous marriage.

"And what year were you born?" Quinn's mother asked.

"1796, ma'am," he said.

"I believe I knew your mother, as a girl," she said. "She was a gentle soul, always questioning, beautiful blonde hair...you look much like her, Sam. I remember the boy she courted, your father I surmise. How in love they were." Sam, of course, had never heard anyone speak so candidly about his mother, even telling him he resembled her.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said quietly.

"Go on, son," her father said.

"I lived with the Feazels until I was 9 and then went to live with my pa in Stokes County, North Carolina. I joined the North Carolina Militia during the War of 1812 and served my full time there." He paused there, took a deep breath, and went on. "I met my first wife there and followed her family to Logan County, Kentucky, where we were married in June 1816. She died in August 1816 from fever, and I returned here, to live with grandmother Feazel."

He finally managed to say the words and waited for their reaction, gripping his hat in his hands.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Sam," Miranda said softly.

"Thank you, ma'am. It was a difficult time for me," he mumbled, now tearing up. She reached over and touched him lightly on the hand and felt him trembling. She could sense the boy needed a mother.

"Does Quinny know about your late wife?" her father asked him. Sam shook his head _no_.

"I think you should tell her of your past, Samuel. It might make it easier to cope with," her mother said. "If you want to know her better, she needs to know _you _better, as well."

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled. He was beginning to think Miranda Fabray was one of the smartest women he had ever met and for whatever reason it felt like she was on his side.

"So, DeWitt, who taught you carpentry, he was this woman's father?" Thomas asked him.

"Yes, sir."

"He must've thought quite highly of you, then."

Sam recalled the time when Mr. DeWitt and his father had to plan his wedding because Elizabeth kissed him and Mr. DeWitt wasn't too happy then. He came around, though, after Sam returned from his military duty.

"I s'pose so, sir," Sam answered.

"It is quite obvious that our Quinny is smitten with you, Samuel. You do need to speak to her, though, about what you told us tonight," her mother went on. "If you foresee your relationship with her progressing."

"Yes'm," he answered. No one else spoke so he took that as his cue he may leave. He stood up and wished them a goodnight and returned to his cabin.

"He's a sad boy, father," Miranda said to Thomas.

"That he is...except for when I see him with Quinny and his face lights up. He's very quiet on our trips and often writes in a journal. I think he'd make her a fine husband in the future, but he appears to feel guilt over his late wife, maybe because she died? maybe because he has feelings for Quinny?"

"I agree, father. If he confided in Quinny, I think she could help him through his grief. He does look just like his mother. Do you remember her?"

"Of course I remember her, mother! If I had not laid eyes on you first, I certainly would've requested her courtship!"

"She was a lovely girl and so in love with her husband, such a tragedy for Samuel, to never know her," Miranda said, shaking her a head a bit.

_xxxxx_

At his cabin, Sam lay in his bed, hands laced behind his head, ankles crossed, thoughts racing through his mind. Now that Quinn's parents knew about Elizabeth he knew they'd be expecting him to tell Quinn soon. That posed a problem...how would he even broach that subject? How would Quinn react? How would he feel knowing that she knew? He was thoroughly confused. He thought of the Bible verse, Psalm 27:14. His heart needed to heal before he could move forward with Quinn. He had finally put Elizabeth's picture away. The next step would have to be sharing that brief painful time of his life with Quinn.

_xxxxx_

The next two weeks were filled with wedding preparations for Peyton's nuptials to Martha Hudson. Quinn and Kate found themselves going with their mother most days to the Hudson residence where the wedding was to occur. Quinn and Kate's job in the days leading up to the wedding was working on her trousseau, including her dress, veil, garter, and other dresswear for other members of the wedding party. This wedding was going to be more of a lavish affair than the Harter wedding, mainly due to the Hudsons having more money at their disposal.

The day before the wedding, Quinn was occupied at the Hudson residence decorating every available surface and assisting Martha with anything she needed. Guests began arriving, the ones from farther away and who would be staying at the Hudson's after the ceremony. Quinn missed having Kate to talk to; she was helping in the kitchen. One of Quinn's chores was fashioning a bouquet of flowers for Martha to carry. She decided to go to the meadow Sam had taken her to and choose wildflowers for Martha to decide what she wanted. Wandering through all the flowers, choosing the prettiest ones she could find and putting them in her basket, she recalled the picnic with Sam there and how he had kissed her, not once but _twice_. The past two weeks they had barely seen one another, really only in passing, not even at suppertime hardly. It almost seemed to her that he was avoiding her.

Martha had also informed her that Finn _would_ be present at the wedding; however, Elizabeth Hudson would _not_ be present, due to her delicate condition. Quinn wasn't sure how to feel about that. Thankfully, Sam was escorting her to this wedding, as well.

Back at the Hudson residence, Quinn found Martha sitting quietly on the porch.

"Is everything okay, dear? You look...saddened," Quinn said, sitting down with her.

Martha picked up the basket and started going through the flowers.

"These are lovely, Quinn. I knew you'd choose the prettiest ones for me," she said quietly. "We can use the ones not in my bouquet around the house."

"Where is your smile? This should be a happy day for you!"

"It is, dear sister. How sweet it is that we'll finally be sisters! I'm going to miss living here, I believe," Martha told her. She had all brothers so gaining Quinn and Kate as sisters-in-law was ideal for her. Peyton had bought a small tract of land near the Fabrays with an old cabin on site that he and Sam had been working on to make ready as their residence.

"But you'll have your own home with Peyton! And I'm sure you can visit often! And you'll be living closer to me now!" Quinn tried to think of all the positives.

Martha had her bouquet in hand and smiled at Quinn. "Those are good things, yes. Let's go inside and I'll try my gown on again!"

Quinn giggled and followed her inside the house.

_xxxxx_

Sam had been avoiding Quinn. He was still trying to figure out how to talk to her about Elizabeth and he naturally assumed the best way to get past that was to just avoid it. He knew in his heart, though, that that was not the right thing to do. Maybe at the Hudson-Fabray wedding he'd find the nerve.

The night before the wedding, though, he had to participate in bachelor festivities with Peyton. And, much to his chagrin, Finn Hudson had arrived.

The young men gathered at the Fabray residence. Sam sat quietly, watching Finn Hudson interact with the others. He seemed like an affable guy, friendly, easy going. Sam wondered what his wife was like, the one he chose to elope with even after having the opportunity to court Quinn.

The spirits were flowing freely that evening and most of the young men were smoking pipes.

"I don't believe we've met," Sam said from behind Finn. Finn was standing at the buffet pouring himself a drink. Finn turned around and eyed Sam.

"No, I don't believe we have. Finn Hudson," Finn said, offering his hand.

Sam shook his hand. "Sam Evans. I work for Thomas Fabray."

"Ah, Mr. Fabray! A more jovial gentleman I've never met!" Finn exclaimed. He poured a second drink and handed it to Sam. Sam slowly sipped the bourbon, feeling the liquid heat up his insides and make him a little heady. "What do you do for Mr. Fabray?"

"Carpentry work."

"Oh! Peyton said he was apprenticing under one of the finest carpenters around! That must be you, fine sir! Very pleased to make your acquaintance," Finn said happily, shaking Sam's hand again.

Sam nodded. "And what do you do, Mr. Hudson?"

"Just odd jobs, here and there. Jack of all trades, master of none!" Sam thought Finn had possibly mastered being a drunk.

Peyton stumbled up to them, slinging an arm around both of their shoulders. "Finn! I see you've met my dear sister Quinn's suitor!" Sam looked at Finn to gauge his reaction to that news.

Finn stood there, swaying a bit, studying Sam. Finally, he said quietly, "Yes, I have."

The other young gentleman pulled Peyton away and to the piano where James Martin began playing a lively tune. Sometime later, Sam slipped away to his cabin quietly.

Slightly drunk, he wrote in his journal: _Met the man who broke Quinn's heatr. I think we need each other to heal the chasms our hearts have suff'red_.

_xxxxx_

Quinn and Kate had stayed at the Hudson house the night before the wedding, talking to Martha about her impending marriage to their older brother.

"Your cabin looks so pretty; Peyton and Sam have worked hard on it," Kate said.

"It'll be so odd sleeping somewhere that's not here...and, well, sleeping with a man," Martha said. The other two giggled.

"Peyton talks in his sleep; he'll prob'ley keep you awake until morning!" Quinn said, laughing.

Martha's eyes opened wide. "I'm a bit nervous about...the other thing."

"What other thing?" Kate asked innocently. Quinn had an idea of what Martha was talking about. She nudged Kate and whispered _relations_. "Ohhhh..." Kate said, still not understanding what that meant.

"Did you talk to your mother?" Quinn asked her.

"She just said Peyton would know what to do," Martha said, blushing.

"I don't know what to tell you, Martha dear. All I know is what I see the cats do..." Quinn said and Kate snorted, now catching up to what the conversation was about.

"I wish Aunt Anne was here; she'd tell us. What about Granny Palmer? She'd know, right?" Martha said, becoming flustered.

"She knows how to get the babies out, not sure if she knows how to get them up there!" Quinn said in a fit of giggles.

"You are rotten, Quinn Amelia!" Kate said.

"At some point, you and Peyton will prob'ley make a baby or two or six, so you'll have to figure it out eventually!"

"You mock me, Quinn Fabray! Someday, you'll be in the same position, I promise you!" Martha said, unable to not laugh at this point.

The girls gradually calmed down and made sure Martha's wedding outfit was ready for the next day, then crawled into her large bed to sleep.

_xxxxx_

The next morning started early for both households. Sam was glad he had left the bachelor festivities when he did; he had heard the other revelers making their way loudly to the cabins next to his in the middle of the night. After doing chores around the Fabray farm, he returned to his cabin and heated some water to take a quick bath before dressing for the wedding. After bathing, he ran a makeshift comb through his hair and put on his black suit. He rode to the Hudson household on Clyde.

The Hudson household was bursting at the seams with excitement the morning of Martha's wedding. Quinn and Kate and Martha's mother were helping her get dressed; she was wearing her nicest gown, a puffy white muslin gown that Quinn had painstakingly added embellishments to. Quinn was wearing her pale green silk gown but had reworked the neckline of the gown, lowering it significantly. She'd probably be admonished by her mother after the wedding but she wore it anyway. Kate was wearing the baby blue satin gown and gasped in shock when she saw Quinn's décolletage.

"Ma will be so angry!" she said to Quinn. "I'm sure Sam won't be, though!"

Quinn smiled at herself in the mirror. "Sister, put these green ribbons in my hair, please."

Kate stood behind Quinn, threading the ribbon through her hair.

"You have the prettiest hair, Quinny," Kate said. Her hair was also blonde but a much darker shade.

"Thank you, sister," Quinn said.

"Do you think Finn will speak to you today?" Kate asked her.

Quinn shrugged. "He has no reason to speak to me."

"How does this look, girls?" Martha said, turning slowly in her entire wedding outfit. The wedding was to begin shortly.

Quinn and Kate gasped. "Oh sister, you are a vision!" Quinn said, jumping up and squeezing Martha's hand, careful not to embrace her in her finery.

"Peyton will see you as an angel," Kate whispered.

"I think I'm ready," Martha said, her voice a little shaky.

"We'll go see if all your guests have arrived and escort Mrs. Hudson to her seat," Quinn said, taking Martha's mother's arm.

Quinn and Kate left Martha alone and took her mother to the winding staircase, downstairs to a sizable sitting room where the ceremony was taking place.

_xxxxx_

Sam rode up to the Hudson estate. It was quite a bit larger than the Fabray's residence, and people were spilling out of the house everywhere on the porch and on the lawn. He took Clyde to the stables and put him in a stall there. He returned to the front of the house, looking for Quinn or any familiar face.

He wandered into the home through groups of people, the air sparking with anticipation. And then he saw her, descending the stairs with her sister and another woman. He stopped where he was and swallowed hard. Her dress dropped low, from her collarbone to the fullness of the beginning of her breasts. He saw flashes of green in her hair, her eyes were shining, her smile bright. She had not spied him yet, focusing on the older woman that she and her sister were escorting.

He watched the trio go to a large room where most people had already gathered. Quinn and Kate took the older woman to a seat at the front of the group. Sam stood at the back, taking in the scene. Peyton was already at the front of the room with the preacher and next to him Finn Hudson. As Sam watched Finn, he noticed Finn was transfixed on something else, _someone_ else…Quinn.

Sam removed his hat. Quinn took her place at the front of the room, being Martha's bridesmaid. He saw her glance across to her brother and smiled; she saw Finn and turned her gaze to the back of the room, waiting on Martha's entrance. Her eyes caught Sam's, and she smiled at him. He smiled his lopsided smile at her and all he could think of was being the lucky one who would be dancing with her later.

Granny Palmer was there and began playing the Wedding March on the piano. Sam turned to watch Martha and her father descend the stairs to enter the sitting room. He thought she looked very pretty. Peyton was grinning like a fool as Martha appeared at the back of the room. Sam noticed Finn's gaze was still focused on Quinn even though she was watching Martha enter.

The ceremony didn't last too long, a few prayers, their vows, they exchanged rings, and shared a kiss. They turned and left the sitting room to wait in the front hall for their guests. Then, Finn and Quinn met and he offered her his arm, as was custom. She sighed and placed her hand gently at his elbow, forcing a smile. She hated it, absolutely _hated_having to be that close to him, touch him, to walk past Sam with him. Finn and Quinn joined the newlyweds. Sam let all the guests file past him before he got at the end of the line.

Slowly, the line of guests moved forward. Finn kept trying to speak to Quinn, but she would conveniently have something to say to every person. She finally saw Sam making his way toward them.

Finally at Peyton and Martha, he shook Peyton's hand, genuinely happy for his friend. He kissed Martha's hand lightly, congratulating them both. He knew from spending so many hours with Peyton recently how deeply he loved her. Next was Finn; he shook his hand quickly, not saying anything. And lastly, Quinn.

"Hello, Miss Quinn," he said deeply.

"Mr. Evans," she replied.

He picked up her right hand and bowed deeply in front of her, kissing the top of her hand, keeping his eyes on her. She sighed quietly when her lips touched her. He stood up straight, still holding her hand in his.

"You are lovely, Quinn," he said quietly.

"Thank you," she answered.

Finn cleared his throat, interrupting their moment. "I think the dancing is beginning soon."

Sam and Quinn noticed Peyton and Martha had left the hall, surely to sneak off and enjoy some privacy. Activity in the sitting room indicated the chairs were being moved to the perimeter of the room to make room for dancing.

"I'd like the first dance, if I may," Sam said, knowing she'd let him dance all the dances with her.

She smiled. "You may…"

"I need to find Mr. Fabray and ask him a question but I'll meet you shortly," Sam said, squeezing her hand and walking to the front porch to find Thomas.

_xxxxx_

Quinn sighed, watching Sam leave by way of the front door and she walked past Finn back to the sitting room. She went to the punch and poured herself a cup. She was happy to find it had not been spiked with alcohol at that point.

"Quinn?" She jumped at the voice right behind her. Finn had followed her quietly. "May I talk to you?"

"Finn, I don't think that's a good idea. I'm happy for you and your new wife. I'd ask you to be happy for me, as well," she said quietly.

"Quinn, I've missed you terribly," he mumbled. She couldn't believe what she was hearing; he was a _married_ man with a child on the way. It infuriated her.

She turned to face him, setting her cup down.

"I have my own life, and I am stronger than you know…" she said to him.

Finn ignored her and then overstepped boundaries of decorum and grasped her upper arms tightly.

"Run away with me! Tonight Quinn! I've always wanted you!" he whispered urgently. She was shocked and speechless and angry that he had had the gall to _touch_ her.

Sam had found Thomas quickly and returned to the house, stopping at the entrance of the sitting room seeing Finn grab Quinn by her arms, seeing her stunned expression. He walked toward them quickly, intent on finding out what was happening.


	8. Fragile

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 8-Fragile**

**Franklin County, Virginia, May/June/July 1817**

**A/N: For some reason, I love this chapter! That doesn't mean you have to, of course, I just felt Sam and Quinn's connection in this one. And no! Not _that_ kind of connection! Not yet, anyway! An emotional connection, I guess. I do hope you enjoy it, though. Thanks for all the reviews!**

Sam grabbed Finn by the collar and spun him around.

"Take your hands off her!" he said, sternly. He looked from Finn to Quinn who appeared mortified. Sam's eyes were dark with anger. "Don't you dare presume to touch her without her permission!" Quinn was speechless by what Finn had said to her. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Her knees buckled.

Sam saw her eyes roll back in her head and he let go of Finn and grabbed Quinn around her waist, keeping her from falling prostate on the floor. He picked her up and sat her in the nearest chair, saying her name quietly. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice.

"I need air, Sam," she mumbled.

"Okay," he helped her stand. "Let's go through the kitchen…" He realized Finn had disappeared.

He directed her to the rear of the house and outside sat down with her under a shade tree.

"I'm so sorry, Sam; I don't know what happened in there," she said.

"What did he say to you? Did he hurt you Quinn?"

"No, Sam. He just said dishonorable things to me…"

"Dishonorable?"

She nodded. "He asked me to run off with him tonight, that he's missed me…Sam, he's married with a child to be born soon!"

Sam felt his blood boiling. Not only had Finn Hudson been disloyal to his wife but suggested rude things to Quinn and touched her against her will.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"The fresh air helped me," she replied.

He took a deep breath. "Quinn, if I see him again today, you realize I have to defend your honor, correct?"

She nodded.

"He's disappeared, though, and I doubt he'll make his presence known here the rest of today. I'm so sorry," he said.

She looked at him, grabbing his hand. "No, don't you apologize Sam Evans!"

"I should've been there with you to keep him from being so forward!"

She cupped her palm alongside his cheek. They heard the music begin.

"Do you feel better now? Would you like to dance?" he asked her.

"Yes, please," she answered.

He stood up, holding her hand to help her stand.

Before walking back to the house, he stopped her. "You look so pretty today, Miss Quinn."

She blushed fiercely and said _thank you very much_.

They watched Peyton and Martha dance for a bit and then their parents joined in and then the rest of the guests. Sam held Quinn a bit closer that day. They had now danced so often together their movements were no longer stiff, but fluid. They moved together now as partners, not strangers.

There were many more dances that day. They took breaks now and then to have cake and punch and mingle. As the sun set, Peyton's buckboard was brought to the front of the house, already loaded with Martha's belongings, and their family and friends saw them off as they left for their new cabin. Finn Hudson did not return that day.

Sam and Quinn helped with the cleanup as was customary. He then brought her buckboard around along with his horse and he rode alongside her as they returned to the Fabray's residence. She had Kate with her and James Martin followed them. He stabled their horses and met her on the front porch.

"Would you like to take a walk, Miss Quinn?" he asked.

"Maybe down the drive and back; pa won't allow anything more," she said, frowning.

"That's fine, come…" He held out his hand to her; she took it and they started off down the drive, walking slowly.

"It was a beautiful day today, do you agree?" he asked her. He decided not to bring up the unpleasantness that Finn had caused.

"Very nice. I'm so glad that we were able to spend it together," she said quietly. She also chose to push Finn out of her mind.

"Miss Quinn, I need to talk to you about something…my past…" he said after a few quiet moments.

She was confused. She thought she knew what there was to know about his past.

They reached the gate at the road and stopped.

"Your past, Sam?" she asked.

"Yes, Quinn. I haven't kept it from you to be secretive; it is just hard for me to talk about. I hope you understand," he said, holding onto the gate for strength.

She swallowed. "Go on…"

He took her hands in his, rubbing her knuckles with his thumbs.

"After I served my time in the War of 1812 and returned to North Carolina…I courted a young lady named Elizabeth," he started.

She held her breath.

Quietly, he said, "We married last June…but she died August last."

Quinn was quiet, letting this new information sink in. He held his breath, waiting on her response.

"I'm sorry you lost your wife, Samuel," she said, nearly a whisper. "Someone as special as you should never be alone."

"Thank you," he muttered. "It happened so quickly…"

She was quiet, letting him speak.

"I've been so alone. And, I've been battling…myself…since seeing you again. I didn't want to lose her memory."

"No, you should keep her memory alive, Sam. I do understand…and I'll wait for you as long as it takes. If nothing else, I'll be your friend forever."

He gulped; the tears were starting. He brushed them away quickly, not wanting to cry in front of her.

"It's been so hard, Quinn," he whispered.

"Sam…" She moved her hands from his and up his arms, pulling them around her waist and hugging him close. He rested his head on her shoulder, and she felt his body shake with his quiet crying.

She felt his grief; it was palpable. It hurt her to see him hurting. She began to cry to, because of his loss, because of his sadness.

"What can I do to make you happy, Sam?" she asked finally, sniffling.

"Umm…" he muttered, trying to pull himself together. It was the first time he had allowed himself to really cry over his loss. And she had cried with him. "Just be my friend, Quinn."

"When you're ready, Sam, I'd like for you to tell me more about Elizabeth," she said.

He looked at her, wondering if he was falling in love with her.

_xxxxx_

That night, in his journal, he wrote: _I told Quinn Amelia abt Liz tonight. Telling her made us both cry. She aksed me what she could do to make me happy. I told her to just be my freind. I wanted to tell her to never laeve me…I don't think I could go through that agian. I think I love her._

_xxxxx_

After she and Sam composed themselves and walked back to the house, he stood at the door and pecked her on the cheek and waited for her to get inside. She went to her parents' bedchamber and knocked quietly.

Her mother asked who was knocking and told her to enter once she announced herself. Quinn threw herself on their bed, crying again.

"Mother! Sam just told me he was married before!" she sobbed.

Her mother feigned shock.

"His wife died right after they married though," she continued. "I can't imagine the grief he has endured."

"Oh, poor Samuel," her mother said quietly. Her father was snoring.

"He asked me to be his friend…I think he definitely needs a friend…he said he's been battling himself since seeing me again…what do you think he means?" Quinn asked.

"Well, I would imagine he's feeling guilty for having feelings for you after the passing of his wife. I'm sure he does not want to besmirch her memory. He's probably been battling his grief alone. I think you are correct in stating he needs a friend," her mother told her.

"Thank you, mother. I'm so sorry to wake you at this hour," Quinn said, hugging her.

"Goodnight Quinny," her mother said, watching her leave the room.

Quinn went to her bedroom where Kate was already snoring, sounding a lot like her father. _James Martin will have to learn to sleep with that someday_, Quinn giggled a little at that thought.

She took off her dress and crawled into her bed, pulling the blankets up around her. She thought of Sam and how lonely he probably was in his cabin. _If only I could go to him, just to hold him and take away his loneliness_, she thought. She was really not shocked that he revealed his true feelings to her when discussing his late wife, maybe that meant he was that comfortable enough around her to allow her to comfort him.

She had really never told him about Finn. Maybe it was her turn to share that with him. Then maybe they could heal each other's hearts somehow.

_xxxxx_

The day after Peyton and Martha's wedding, Sam brought a frame to the house at suppertime.

"It's for your certificate, Quinn," he said.

She smiled and retrieved the paper from the sitting room. He framed it for her and they propped it on the mantle in the sitting room. She offered to read to him from the Bible that evening. She sat at his feet on her stool and read from Corinthians.

_Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away._

He loved hearing her voice. He sat there and closed his eyes and listened to the words fall from her mouth. While spending time with her that evening, he felt more at ease since telling her about Elizabeth.

After reading from the Bible, they moved to the front porch since it was a nice evening.

"How did you meet Elizabeth?" she asked him. "If you don't mind me asking..."

He told her about the first time at the barn raising, then how she kissed him on the cheek at that dance, how she had written to him while he fought in the war, how he courted her when he returned but mainly by letter until her father announced they were moving to Kentucky.

"I had already asked for her hand, so I just followed them to Kentucky. We got married there," he said.

"I see. What did she look like?"

"Brown hair, brown eyes, freckles. She was the only one who wrote me during the war," he told her.

"Sounds like her family thought highly of you," Quinn said.

"I s'pose so. I got along better with them than my father, which is one of the reasons I went to Kentucky with them."

Quinn sat there quiet a moment. She then asked, "What was she like, Samuel?"

He thought for a moment, remembering some moments spent with Elizabeth.

Finally, he smiled. "She was so easy to talk to and so caring. When we were kids, she annoyed me to no end. But, I grew to love her. She loved to read and take care of baby animals. She always seemed to be nursing something back to health..." _Except herself_, he thought.

"She sounds like a fine lady, Sam. You were blessed to have known her for the short time you did," Quinn said, a bit sadly.

After a period of silence, he said, "She told me to go on...as she was dying. I didn't think it possible."

She reached over for his hand and just held it, not speaking.

_xxxxx_

As summer approached, they spent more and more evenings on the front porch or walking down the drive and back. Some evenings he'd mention Elizabeth, some evenings not. One of their disagreements was over Sam and his carpentry; Elizabeth thought it was frivolous and that he needed to learn farming skills to provide for them. He was trying to prove to her that his carpentry could provide for them when she died. He told Quinn he realized then that the argument itself had been frivolous.

"She never realized that working the wood with my hands made me happy," he said at the gate.

"What you create is beautiful, Sam. You have a God-given talent," she told him.

A few weeks after the Fabray-Hudson wedding, while swinging on the porch swing, Sam asked, "What about Finn? Did you love him?"

She pondered that question. "At one time, I thought I did."

Sam was quiet and let her choose her words.

"He was handsome and friendly and smart; all the girls had set their cap for him," she laughed a little. "Including me! Oh, what a fool I was!" She recalled her Aunt Anne telling her if a lady touched a man they had to get married and she mistakenly thought that since she and Finn had touched hands one day they were surely to be married. Then, she realized she touched Sam all the time yet no one had mentioned one word about marriage.

"You are not a fool. He misled you. He is no gentleman," Sam said gruffly.

"I think he was confused..."

"And yet you defend him," Sam interrupted.

"He was confused _then_...I agree with you that _now _he is a cad of the highest degree," she finished.

Martha had brought word recently that Finn's wife had had their child but Finn had been missing since the day of her and Peyton's wedding. His wife had no other choice but to return to her parent's house with her new baby as she had no means to support herself and the infant.

"What did you expect from him?"

"I expected him to ask for my hand in marriage eventually," she said quietly. "But, like I said, I was a fool."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. "He missed out on the best thing that could've ever happened to him."

"Thank you, Sam," she replied, knowing that Sam _was_a gentleman and would say something that she'd want to hear. He understood the custom of the time, a gentleman always praised a lady, especially if another man had hurt her somehow. He knew that she thought he was just saying what she needed to hear.

"I know that because you are one of the best things that's ever happened to me," he continued. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Do you still want to court me, then?" she asked.

He sat up from her to look her in the eye. "Of course I do! We never stopped courting, did we?"

Since his revelation about his late wife, Quinn wasn't sure where they stood. She had assumed that they were being friendly with one another, no longer courting.

"I didn't know. I was just being your friend," she told him.

Admittedly, the displays of affection had reverted back to hand-holding, an occasional embrace, since him telling her about his late wife but only because it felt strange to him to be talking about Elizabeth in one breath and kissing Quinn in the next.

"I'm sorry, Quinn. It seems I've misled you. I never wanted to stop courting, but I needed to talk to you about Liz. You've helped me so much," he said quietly.

In his journal that evening, he wrote: _Quinn told me abt Finn Hudson t'nite. It seems to be easier to talk to her now. Leavign for Ronoke soon...will miss our ev'ning talks._

_xxxxx_

The night before Thomas, Peyton, and Sam were to leave for Roanoke, Sam and Quinn sat on the porch swing watching fireflies in the yard. It was mid June, the night air was warm, heavy, and a thunderstorm could be heard in the distance. Because of the heat lightning they had not lit a lantern and sat there in the darkness with occasional bright bursts of far-away lightning. She sat next to him in a plain blue dress that she wore when doing chores, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. He glanced at her profile and was drawn to her tiny dainty ear. His arm was already around her shoulders; they had been quiet up until this point, swinging slightly.

He leaned into her, pressing his forehead against the side of her head, so that his lips were at her ear. "May I kiss you here?" he asked quietly. His breath across her ear caused her to bite down on her lip or else the moan would've escaped. She nodded slightly and felt his lips on her earlobe, sucking on it a bit. Then, she could've sworn he nibbled on it, catching it between his teeth for a brief moment before sucking on it again. His lips kissed her jawline and then moved to the side of her neck. She tilted her head away from him a bit, instinctively, giving him better access. She felt the skin of her neck being sucked into his mouth gently and she grabbed his thigh that was pressed up against hers. He moaned then, against her neck, and she felt the warmth spread through her lower middle section, settling between her legs. His breath was hot against her neck. She felt the rough broadcloth of his trousers under her palm and could feel his muscles clenching and unclenching, then his hand was on her hand and his lips moved closer to her collarbone. He turned his hips a bit, to face her more, and in doing so moved her hand up his leg. He whispered _Quinn_ against her neck; she moaned quietly. She moved her hand upward on her own then, almost to the crotch of his pants. She knew she was in dangerous territory. She had grown up with mostly brothers and knew they were different _down there _from girls. She had never given any consideration to what happened to them when they were aroused, only knew what happened to herself, what was happening to her at that moment.

When she had gripped his thigh, Sam nearly came undone. He wasn't sure what to do, so he put his hand over hers. He could feel her squeezing his thigh gently, so he turned his hips a bit and moved her hand up in the process. When he whispered her name, she moved her hand up even farther, stopping just before she was touching his stiff manhood. He was all of a sudden very aware of what might happen if she actually put her hand there. Too late, she turned and her mouth was on his before he could react. It was like the lightning had coursed through him then. He could feel his arm wrapped around her shoulders pressing her closer to him and then it happened. She slowly slid her hand to the front of his trousers...and gasped.

It was _protruding_ from his body! She felt something hard beneath his pants, and warm. He groaned when she moved her hand there but then moved her hand away quickly.

"Sam? Sam? Are you okay?" she whispered to him.

"Yeah...yeah..." he mumbled. It had been so close, just the _touch_ of someone's hand other than his own there nearly caused what he thought of as _it_ to happen. Not even Elizabeth had ever touched him there.

"Does it hurt you?" she asked.

"No...no...it's just what happens," he said, sitting up straighter. There was no way in hell he was going to tell her it felt wonderful.

"Oh..." She did not like that fact that their closeness had stopped so suddenly. She tried to put her feeling into a word but couldn't describe what she felt, like she wanted something to happen and then it didn't. _Unfulfilled maybe?_ she thought.

"I prob'ley should get to my cabin; we're leaving sunup tomorrow," he said finally, standing up. Even in the dark, she could see the bulge in his trousers though he was trying to cover it up.

She stood up, as well. "I'll miss you while you're away, Samuel."

"And I'll miss you..." He kissed her on the cheek and was gone.

His journal entry that night read: _Kissed Quinn again. __It__ nearly happened. I feel we're becoming intimtae. _He then went to his bed and finished what had begun on the porch.

_xxxxx_

While Peyton was on his trip with Thomas and Sam, Martha Fabray stayed at the Fabray residence with her new sisters-in-law. Quinn was happy about this because she needed to talk to someone about what happened between her and Sam the night before he left. She just had to get Martha alone because she didn't want Kate privy to this conversation. Thankfully, James Martin and his sister came to pick up Kate for a barbecue at his house and Quinn saw her opportunity.

"Come, sister, let's take a walk!" Quinn said, taking Martha's hand. "I'll show you the meadow that Sam took me to..."

"Must we, Quinny? I'm not feeling very well," Martha mumbled.

"A walk will make you feel better, dear sister. Besides, I need to talk to you...privately," Quinn said. Martha did look a little green to her. "What if I took the buckboard so you don't have to walk?"

"Okay, a ride sounds nice," Martha said and waited on the front porch while Quinn got her brother Joseph to hitch up her horse to the buggy. She drove to the front of the house and Martha got in the rig. "My stomach is just all in knots."

"I'm so sorry, sister. I do wish you felt better."

At the meadow, Quinn pulled the buggy to where Sam had parked it the day they were there. She had brought the old quilt and spread it out under a large tree so they could sit in the shade. Well, Quinn sat in the shade; Martha lay supine, moaning quietly.

"Something happened with Sam that I need to talk to you about," Quinn said. That got Martha's attention. She sat up slightly.

"What happened, Quinny? Nothing awful, I hope."

"Not awful...just...unexpected," she said.

"Do tell..."

"He kissed me...on the ear, then the neck, almost sucking there. It shocked me so that I grabbed his leg. He moved my hand upward a bit, then I moved my hand, and then I _felt _it!"

"Felt what?" Martha asked.

"Martha Fabray! Don't act so dense! His...his…_protrusion_!"

Martha's eyes got wide.

"What happened then?" she asked Quinn.

"He made a noise and moved my hand away. I asked if it hurt him, and he said no, it just happens. Martha! What happens? I don't know!"

"Um, well, it needs to be..._stiff_...to have relations," Martha told her. "It gets that way after kissing."

"So, how bad is it?" Quinn asked, blushing.

"How bad is what?"

Quinn groaned. "_Relations!_"

"Not pleasant at all," Martha frowned.

"No?" That was not the answer Quinn was hoping to hear.

"It was quite painful," Martha said. "It caused a great amount of discomfort."

"For both of you?"

"Just me. He seemed to enjoy it quite well," Martha hmpf'd.

Quinn was confused. What she had been feeling with Sam was nothing like discomfort, pleasurable even.

"Well, what happens?" Quinn hoped she wasn't overstepping any boundaries, but she was curious about these matters. She knew she couldn't go to her mother with questions; she wouldn't even discuss her monthly with her. And going to her grandmother, even though she was a midwife, was just awkward. Her only other choice was her Aunt Anne but writing down these questions and hoping for a quick reply from Anne was iffy. So, she decided to ask Martha, newly married to her older brother.

"It's quite awkward. He just climbed on top of me and pushed himself in, no consideration of my distress. Afterward, he apologized."

"How long does it take?"

"That was the only good thing of the whole act, maybe 30 seconds? And I bled after," she said, lying back down.

Quinn was shocked. "You _bled_?"

"It hurts when it happens. Not so much during subsequent times."

"What happens to the man?"

"He just breathed heavily, pushed in and out a number of times, grunted, and it was over," Martha said.

Quinn was dumbfounded. She'd never be able to go through with this.

"Did he know what to do?" she asked Martha.

Martha giggled a little. "Not really...in a way, I think he was as frightened as I was."

And then it hit her. Sam had done this before, with his late wife. He _knew_ what to do. And now she was more scared than before.

_xxxxx_

The trip to Roanoke took 2-1/2 days there and back, so they were gone approximately 5 days total. The entire time he was away from Quinn she was all he could think about. He found she was taking up space in his mind that used to be devoted to Elizabeth. That thought saddened him somewhat but then he would think of Quinn and how she had cried upon learning of his past and he again felt close to her.

Peyton couldn't stop talking about his newly married state to his father and Sam and how he now felt like a _man_. Sam understood; that was how he felt after bedding Elizabeth the first time, though he didn't talk about it with everyone he knew. And then his thoughts would turn to bedding Quinn and that just got him flustered so he'd try to push those thoughts away.

At one point during their trip, while Thomas had Sam alone, he said, "I'm aware you informed Quinny of your past, son."

"Yes, sir," Sam answered, not offering anything more.

"And how did she receive that information?"

"She asked me a lot of questions about Elizabeth and comforted me, sir," Sam answered honestly.

"Aye, she's always had a tender heart, deep down," her father said. "And what are your intentions now?"

"I still want to continue to court her, with your permission of course. Eventually, I'd like to take her as my wife, sir," Sam admitted. It had been on his mind since the suppertime conversation earlier and he finally said it out loud.

Thomas laughed. "You're very forthright, boy! I like that in a man!" Sam hoped that meant he was in Thomas' good graces. "I don't want my Quinny hurt again, like that Hudson boy misled her. You understand, son?"

Sam looked at him. "I'd never hurt your daughter, Mr. Fabray." _I want to hold her in my arms forever_, he thought.

"Are you asking me for her hand, then?"

"No, sir, not now," Sam answered.

"Fine. Come talk to me then when you're ready," Thomas said, leaning back on the wagon seat and drifting off to nap.

When they returned, it was the middle of the night due to a wheel breaking on the wagon outside Rocky Mount. It took him and Peyton nearly 2 hours to repair it. Quinn had been too tired to wait up for them so had gone to bed already. Sam was hoping she'd be waiting on the porch but there was no one to greet them.

_xxxxx_

When Quinn saw Sam the next day, she was somewhat shy around him. He was pretty sure it was because of what happened on the porch before he left for Roanoke. He decided to give it some time and let her come around when she was ready. He recalled how scared he had been with Elizabeth and how frightened she had been, as well, when things became intimate between them, and he didn't want it to be that way for Quinn. She even begged off a walk that evening, saying she needed to retreat to her bedchamber. She couldn't help it when her eyes drifted downward, glancing at the front of his trousers. He caught that glance and left quickly. He didn't want her to be afraid of him but that was the look in her eyes: fear.

A few days after they returned, Sam failed to appear for supper. Quinn received permission from her mother to make him a plate and take it to his cabin. She found him sitting in the rocking chair on the small porch, smoking his pipe.

"I brought you supper, Sam," she said quietly, walking up onto the porch. "You must be hungry."

"Thank you, Miss Quinn," he said, taking the plate of food.

"I didn't know you took a pipe," she said, sitting down on a step.

"Only rarely..."

They were quiet for awhile. "You've been absent since I've returned, Quinn," he said finally.

"I've missed your company, Sam. I had to take to my bed though," she lied. "You yourself were not at supper this eve."

"Today is my wedding anniversary..." he said quietly. She looked up at him. She could see tears shining in his eyes, yet they didn't fall.

"Tell me about your wedding, Sam," she asked of him.

He got up from the rocking chair and sat down next to her.

"It was a sunny warm day. The preacher was passing through and we asked him to marry us. A storm blew up that night," he said, simply. "We were happy."

"Weddings are always a happy affair, Sam," she said.

"Quinn, are you afraid of me? Have I done something to offend you?" he asked suddenly.

"No Sam! Of course not!" she said, trying to sound shocked. "I prob'ley should return to my room." She began to get up.

"Stay with me for a bit..." He grabbed her hand and gently pulled her back down to the step. "Please?"

After a few minutes, he asked her, "Is it because of what happened on the porch?"

"What happened on the porch? I'm sure I don't know what you could mean..."

"Quinn..."

She sighed. "Okay, yes, Sam. What happened on the porch." What she said next shocked him to his core. "I wanted to...to _learn_ more about you!"

"I apologize for what happened on the porch; that shouldn't have happened," he said quietly. "I don't ever want to hurt you. I don't ever want to break you."

She looked at him. "You're saying I'm fragile; I try not to be."

"You're the strongest-willed girl I've ever known..."

"I search only, for something I can't see..."

"What are you looking for, Quinn?" he asked her.

"Your love Sam Evans!" And she jumped up and ran off.

He sat there and let that sink in, then moved back to his rocking chair to finish the pipe. Inside, he opened his journal and wrote: _Today was to be my first wedding anniversary. I think Quinn Amelia confessed that_ s_he loves me_. _Do I love her? She says she cannot see it_. _Of course I love her! since the day I first saw her in the forest, but that was a youhtful innocent love; now she seeks a full-grown love between a man and a woman. Am I ready to give that to her? Has my heart healed enuogh? I know not yet._

_xxxxx_

A few days later, the July sun was beating down on Virginia. Sam sought Quinn, finding her on the front porch of her home, fanning herself and sipping a lemonade.

"Come with me," he requested.

"Where to?" she asked, wary.

"You'll see...please..."

"Don't you have work to finish?"

"I finished early today...come..." He held out his hand to her, and she got up from her seat, pulling her sun bonnet up over her hair.

He led her to behind the house, past the barns, to the edge of the woods. She dropped her hand from his.

"Let's take a walk. Over to the Feazels..." he said. She followed him into the woods.

"What is at the Feazels?" she asked.

"You said you wanted to learn more about me, right?"

She nodded.

"Well, then, come with me..." He picked up her hand again. She wondered if this was appropriate but went with him anyway.

"Can we stop at the creek, Sam? Dip our feet in? It's hotter than the devil's kitchen today!"

He laughed, a true genuine laugh. "Sure Miss Quinn...that's a splendid idea!"

At the creek, they pulled off their shoes and slipped their feet into the cool water.

"I remember the day I decided to lay down here and then I met you and Peyton!" he said, laughing again.

"Really? This was where we met? I don't remember," she said, leaning back against the creek bank. "I remember searching for fairies."

"Yes and Peyton was looking for gnomes. I remember thinking you were the prettiest creature I'd ever seen," he said, recalling his memory of her on that day.

"Creature, Sam?"

He laughed. "The prettiest _thing_ I'd ever seen..."

"It is quite possible I could take a nap here," Quinn mumbled, the heat tiring her.

"We better get moving then," he said, standing up and helping her up. They walked across the creek barefoot and put their shoes on on the other side. They walked down the old paths from Sam's youth until they got to the oak tree carved with her initials.

"It still stands true," he said to her, smiling. She held his hand tighter.

He walked her out to the Feazel family burying ground. "I want you to meet my mother," he said quietly, stopping at her grave site.

She looked at him and then sat down; he followed her lead.

"Mrs. Evans, your son has grown into a fine young man that I'm proud to call my acquaintance," Quinn said. "Nay, my _friend_."

"She's just as beautiful as she sounds, ma," he said. "She's kind of turned my life around."

To Quinn, he said, "Your ma said she knew her when they were young. She said I look like her and that she and my pa were deeply in love."

"Then she must've been a beautiful lady, Sam," Quinn replied.

"Even though my pa seems to hate me, it makes me happy that he loved her," Sam said sadly.

"He doesn't hate you, Samuel."

"He blames me for her death. He'd look at me with hatred in his eyes, even when I was a boy. He never even wrote to me after he found out Liz had passed away," Sam told her.

"I'm so sorry," she said to him. She reached over to him and took his hand, bringing it to her lips and kissing him there like he had kissed her several times before.

"I'd like to say a prayer if I may, Samuel," she said quietly. He nodded and bowed his head. She thought of what she had been reading in her Bible, took a deep breath, and began:

_Comfort those who grieve and build a spirit of trust in them to replace their doubts._  
><em>Give hope to those who grieve so they will know its purpose and not be servants to it.<em>  
><em>Draw the fatherless to a reliance on you - our heavenly Father.<em>  
><em>Grant hope to those in despair.<em>  
><em>Keep them from dwelling on their losses.<em>  
><em>Cancel the emotional debt they think they owe.<em>  
><em>Carry them when they're too weak to walk.<em>  
><em>Bring joy into their life.<em>  
><em>Open their eyes to see what You see.<em>  
><em>Replace their dread with reassurance.<em>  
><em>Amen.<em>

They sat there silently for a long while before Sam muttered his _amen_.

"Was that for me?" he asked her finally. She looked at him. His face was red and tearstained, his eyes bloodshot.

She nodded. Her words had made her cry too.

"You know, it's such a beautiful day...I wanna go put my feet in that creek again," he said, smiling at her.

"Thank you for sharing this with me, Sam," she said, standing up.

"Thank you for coming," he said. "I'll be back soon, ma."

They spent the rest of the afternoon playing in the creek as if they were 8 years old, splashing one another and cooling off in the heat. He couldn't help but notice as her dress got soaked he could make out the outline of her breasts, even nipples. He also didn't realize that she was sneaking glances at him in his wet clothes, realizing how broad his shoulders were, how flat his belly was, his slim waist and hips.

"We should go swimmin' Quinn!" he said. "There's a good swimmin' hole 'round here somewhere, right?"

"Over by the Bell farm," she said. "Let's go soon...this heat is awful!"

They returned to the Fabray house soaked. Quinn snuck in and stripped out of her wet dress in the kitchen and slipped up the back stairwell in her chemise, hoping to not get caught. Sam had gone directly to his cabin to put on dry clothes.

At supper that evening, her mother asked her if she had been swimming that day.

"No, ma'am," Quinn replied quickly.

"Well, Patsy found your dress soaking wet in the kitchen and your hair is damp," her mother said.

Quinn stared at her plate of food. "No, ma'am, no swimming." Sam glanced up from his plate at Quinn with just a hint of a smile. Of course, his hair was damp, as well, which did not go unnoticed by her father.

"It looks like Mr. Evans went for a dip!" he bellowed.

"No sir, I took a bath before supper," Sam said, sharing probably too much delicate information at the supper table. And Quinn giggled. Her parents looked from one to the other, not sure what was going on between them.

On their walk that evening, Sam said, "I like your hair damp, Miss Quinn."

"I thought we were in big trouble!" she laughed.

"Me too...I had a nice day with you today. I haven't laughed like that in I don't know how long," he said.

"It's nice to see you happy, Sam," she said as they got to the gate. He pulled her close to him in an embrace.

"You have helped turn things around for me, Quinn Amelia. You don't know how much you've helped me," he said, looking down at her. Her eyes were picking up the moonlight and much like in the meadow he couldn't stop himself and found himself kissing her. He moved into her slowly, his hands at her waist, realizing she had not even worn her stays to supper. He also knew it wouldn't take much until he felt the familiar hardness in his trousers.

She welcomed his lips on hers; his kisses were intoxicating to her. She felt his hands at her waist pulling her gently against him and she felt it again, his hardness pressing against her midsection. She broke the kiss to reach for his right hand.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No..." She moved his right hand up her side until it was level with her breast. He wouldn't move his hand, so she had to do it for him. She placed it over her breast, over her dress. He sucked in his breath, cupping her breast, running his thumb over the hard nipple pushing at the fabric. This was also new for him; it had never occurred with Elizabeth. He had never touched a female breast before.

"Umm..." he mumbled. Her mouth met his again, cutting off anything he might say. The hot feeling was moving through her because of his touch. She suddenly knew what she wanted...she wanted his hand _on_ her bare skin. It would only take opening the top three buttons of her dress. Would he do it? He was a gentleman after all and this was something that would compromise her reputation _forever _if caught by anyone.

"Sam..."

"I'll stop..."

"No...no...this..." She popped open the top button of her dress.

"Quinn...we can't...I shouldn't..."

"Shhh..." She popped open the second button. He could see her pale flesh in the moonlight.

"Quinn..." The third button was undone. She pulled the dress aside a bit and he stared. In the moonlight, her skin was nearly translucent. He could see the nipple, the fullness of her breast, the soft curve of it as it met her body. She watched him stare at her, mouth hanging open, not moving at all.

"Touch me..." she uttered, barely a whisper. He glanced at her and met her eyes. She took his hand again and placed it on her bare breast. His hand was rough from so much work; he tried to touch her softly. She brought her free hand up to his neck and pulled him to her lips. They both moaned against one another's mouth when that happened. The kissing was suddenly rushed, rough, breathing in between. He took her nipple between his fingers and pinched her gently, eliciting another moan of pleasure. He then watched his hand on her, seeing goosebumps dot her skin from his touch and the cool night air.

She was aware of his other arm wrapped around her, pressing her against him almost rhythmically. His breathing was heavy, nearly gasping. He hoped it wasn't noticeable, his pressing against her over and over, but he had never been so erect and the friction from the fabric of his trousers was doing something to him.

"Quinn...I'm sorry...I've gotta..." It was too late; _it_ happened as he stood there rocking against her. The shudder went through him; he dropped his head to her shoulder, very embarrassed.

"Are you okay, Sam? Did I hurt you?" she asked, running her fingers through the back of his hair.

"No, I'm fine," he panted into her shoulder.

"Are you sure? Your breathing is so heavy and you shook violently…"

"It's never happened like this, Quinn," he muttered.

"What's never happened? I'm so confused Sam!" she said, worried that something terrible had happened to him. "Shall I run for Doctor Willis?"

He stood up shocked. "Lord no, Quinn! I'm fine really." He watched her fasten the three top buttons of her dress. "I think it went too far."

"Sam, do you love me?"

Her question took him by surprise.

"Quinn, I've loved you since the first day in the forest. When I moved back here, I grew to love you again."

"Then isn't this natural? The kissing and touching? Don't people in love do those sorts of things?" she asked.

"Then you admit you love me too," he said, smiling.

She smiled coyly. "Yes, Sam, I do…"

"Then, yes, it's natural…it's like an expression of love between us, I guess," he said. He took her hand and they began walking back to her house.

"I'm not even 17 yet, Sam," she said. He knew she was referring to her father's edict regarding his daughters being 18 when they married.

"I realize that, Miss Quinn…I'm not going anywhere," he replied.

She looked up at him, his eyes shining in the moonlight, smiling back at her. "I trust you, Samuel."

_xxxxx_

That night in his cabin, after cleaning himself up, he opened his journal and read back the entries since arriving back in Virginia. He had most definitely been in a foul humor upon arriving at grandmother Feazel's house. The first entry read: _Liz died a week ago yestedray. Why am I still alive?_ Then, an entry while still traveling: _Not sure I can go any farhter. I'm lost without her_.

He turned the pages. On getting back to Virginia: _I made it home. I'm so alone_. On Elizabeth's memory: _I dremaed about Liz again, want her back in my arms_. And then: _I can't remember her voice. I can't hear her anymoer_. Then, Quinn began appearing in his entries. The newest entry read: _I can love agian. I felt love tonihgt_.


	9. Road To Richmond

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 9-Road To Richmond**

**Franklin County, Virginia, July 1817**

The summertime heat was baking central Virginia that year. It thankfully wasn't a drought but even when it rained it was hot. Fabray Fine Goods were selling quickly in Roanoke, Bedford, and Lynchburg. Thomas was ready to expand to the state capitol, Richmond. Whereas it took 1 day to get to Bedford and 3 days to get to Lynchburg, it was going to take at least 14 days to get to Richmond. Thomas wanted to take two wagons and the entire family. Peyton and Martha would follow in a third wagon. Miranda Fabray and her daughters were excited about traveling to the large city; Quinn and Kate had never been. Once there, they were staying for a week and then returning to the farm, so in total, their trip would last for more than a month.

Other than the God-awful long time it would take to get to Richmond, Sam was looking forward to it. He'd be driving a wagon with the twins, Thomas and John, and Joseph. Quinn, her mother, and sister would be riding with Mr. Fabray. Even though the majority of traveling days would be spent in the wagon, at least during the evenings he'd be able to see her.

Before the big trip to Richmond, though, Thomas wanted to get to Roanoke. The week following the Fourth of July, Thomas, Peyton, and Sam traveled there to conduct business. While they were gone, Miranda, Quinn, Kate, and Martha got clothing and provisions ready for the Richmond trip.

Quinn was also looking forward to the Richmond trip. The thing that fascinated her most was she had never seen Sam sleep. They obviously wouldn't be sleeping together or probably anywhere near one another but she hoped to catch him cat-napping. Since admitting to one another that what they felt for each other was love, things seemed so much easier between them. She spoke more freely, as did he, and there seemed to be more smiling and laughter.

Nothing like the episode by the gate had happened again, both feeling slightly strange about it, somewhat guilty. Quinn was afraid to even discuss it with Martha. She agreed with Sam, though, it had felt natural between them, not forced or wrong.

When the three men returned from Roanoke, they had a day to spend at home before leaving for Richmond. The first half of their "day off" was spent loading the three wagons with furniture and their personal belongings. The second half of the day was for rest and relaxation.

"Shall we go swimmin', Sam?" Quinn asked him as he helped Peyton load the wagons. The heat was so intense they had both stripped their shirts off; Sam was glistening with sweat. His pants rode low on his hips, and she could see a thin line of light brown hair arising from underneath the pants to his bellybutton. The question was intended for Sam but Peyton answered.

"Let's go to the swimmin' hole by Bell's farm! I'll get Martha!" He left Sam alone to finish loading.

"So is it a pond or something?"

"Oh no…you'll see!"

All in all, Sam and Quinn went, along with Peyton and Martha and James and Kate. James and Kate were in quite miserable moods since James Martin was not accompanying the Fabrays on their Richmond trip. The boys had to find their winter long john's to swim in; the girls just stripped down to their shifts, minus the corsets.

Sam and Quinn followed Peyton, Martha, James, and Kate to the swimming hole, which turned out to be a gigantic lake.

"Wow, Quinn, that looks so much nicer than a little ol' pond!" Sam said.

The boys ran ahead, stripping off their shirts, pants, and boots as they went, leaving their long johns on, and sloshed into the water, whooping and hollering.

The girls changed out of their dresses behind a small grove of trees, having left their stays at home. They ran giggling to the water, arms crossed across their chests, and walked slowly and daintily into the water.

"Oh no, ladies! No slow and easy about it!" Sam yelled to them, walking through the water and picking up Quinn in his arms, taking her out farther, and tossing her in. Peyton and James followed suit with a lot of screaming from the girls.

The water was actually warm due to the recent hot days, yet it was refreshing. Quinn came up from underwater, wiping her face off, looking for Sam…he was nowhere to be seen.

Then she felt something grabbing at her legs and he swooshed up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"Samuel Evans! You scared me half to death!" she said, only partially joking.

"I'm sorry, miss." He turned her around to face him. "If your pa saw you swimming in your shift, he'd have my head, you know that, right?"

"Pa and ma are napping now; they have no idea where we all are!" she said gaily.

He realized they were very close together; their bodies wet, barely any clothing between them. The other two couples had paired off and were kissing and doing whatever they did together.

"Let's swim," he said, thinking the best thing for them to do would be to split up. He couldn't tear his eyes off her supple breasts beneath the white muslin chemise, her rose-colored nipples standing erect.

She frowned a bit; she enjoyed being held in his arms. But, she swam off and dove in and under the water a few times, enjoying the colder water down below. He somehow managed to get the guys to play games with him in the water, rougher than what they could play with the girls, until eventually all three couples had paired off again.

She swam up to Sam, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed his neck lightly.

"You'll have to turn around, Quinn," he said, his voice cracking a bit.

"Why Sam?" she asked, kissing the other side of his neck.

"I can see right through your chemi…please," he said again.

"Sam…" Her lips found his; her fingers were running through his hair. He knew he needed to stop what was happening.

"I want to feel you…" she mumbled.

"No Quinn…we can't…" he whispered. He felt her hand run down his arm to his hip. She was beginning to understand that the heat she felt between her legs might very well be related to his _protrusion_.

She moved her hand between them and felt it, hard, almost throbbing. She watched his eyes close, his head drop back a little, and heard him whisper _damn_.

"I need to feel you…" she said to him and lifted her leg around his waist. He grabbed her other leg and moved her against him and held her still. She could feel him between her legs, hard and pushing against her. He stared at her, holding her legs around his waist.

"Quinn, no, we've gotta stop…it's gonna happen again…" he mumbled, pushing at her hips to try to get her off him, but she had locked her ankles behind him. He glanced down and watched her breasts push against his chest as she moved slowly against his hardness. Even in the cool water, he could feel her heat through his long johns and suddenly he realized there was nothing under that shift she had on. Her lips were on his; she wanted to make it happen again, whatever it was.

"Quinn," he whispered one last time. "I can't make it stop…"

The shudder coursed through him then, and he groaned into her shoulder, again embarrassed that she had this kind of effect on him. He was nearly 21 years old; he should be able to control himself in such situations.

She finally dropped her legs down from around his waist. When he had trembled against her and groaned, she felt the warmth expel from him against her.

"What happens, Sam?"

"Uh…" He was still breathing heavily against her shoulder, hoping the others hadn't noticed anything strange happening between them.

"Does something come out?"

"Yeah…" he said, huffing.

"I felt it…"

"You did?" He stood up straight and looked at her.

"Yes, it was warm…" she said. "What is it?"

He shook his head. "I dunno."

"What does it look like?"

"Uh…" He couldn't believe she was asking him all these questions. "It's white, I guess."

"What does it do?"

"You ask a lot of questions," he said, smiling a little at her.

"I'm curious…"

"I think it's what makes babies, if you must know," he said.

"Oh…"

"We can't do things that anymore, at least not 'til I talk to your pa, Quinn," he whispered.

She knew exactly what that meant.

"He said no daughter of his can get married until she's 18," she pouted.

"He told me to come talk to him when I'm ready…and I think I'm ready…" Sam said, smiling even wider.

Quinn squealed and even though he had just admonished her for getting so close to him in her wet chemise he picked her up in the water and twirled themselves around until they were dizzy and fell over into the water.

_xxxxx_

After swimming for a couple hours, the boys clamored out of the lake to strip off their long johns and put on their dry clothes. The girls ran discreetly to the grove of trees and pulled on their work dresses over their wet chemises. They all then sat together in the shade to allow their hair to dry before returning to the Fabrays. Sam lay next to a sitting Quinn with his head in her lap, nodding off for a little while as she gently ran her fingers through his wet hair, brushing it away from his face.

At the Fabrays, the entire family was excited about setting out the next day. Peyton and Martha stayed for supper but then returned to their own household. James Martin stayed as late as possible, whispering into Kate's ear on the porch. Sam and Quinn took their usual walk down the drive. At the gate, they stopped.

"About today, Quinn..." he said.

"I know, we can't allow that to happen again, Samuel."

He sighed and held her arms. "It felt right, though."

She sighed, as well, nestling into his shoulder. "I agree..."

"I do look forward to sleeping with you under the stars, Miss Quinn," he said softly, taking her hand and walking back toward the house.

In their bedroom that evening, in the still darkness, Kate whispered to Quinn. "Sister! Sister! I need to tell you something!"

Quinn was nearly asleep, drifting off to thoughts of seeing Richmond with Sam. "Hmm Kate?"

"I need to tell you something!" Kate then hopped out of her bed and into Quinn's thereby fully awakening Quinn.

"What is it, sister? Have you taken ill?" Quinn asked, now concerned.

"No! No! Something happened..." she giggled. "Between me and James Martin!"

"What happened?" Quinn asked, not really wanting to know. "Not...?"

Kate nodded vigorously. "I had to tell someone!"

"Oh, Kate...you're not even 16 yet...what if something happens?" Quinn said, disappointedly.

"What would happen?"

Quinn sighed. "What if you're with child?" she whispered.

"What do you mean, sister?" Kate now looked very worried.

"That's what causes babies..._relations_," Quinn whispered. She knew if she raised her voice their mother would surely overhear their whispers and be in their room in a heartbeat.

"Oh...maybe not if it happened in the water," Kate said.

"The water?"

"At the lake today..." Kate told her. Quinn then knew that she and Sam were not the only ones doing unmentionable things underwater.

Kate nibbled on her finger. "What will papa say? If that happens? I know James Martin will marry me..."

"I'm sure mother and father will be disappointed, Kate. They'll just say the baby came early when it's your time," Quinn said. She had heard that many times while assisting her grandmother at deliveries, 'the baby came early'. It seemed to happen often and usually a month before the baby was expected. "When was your last monthly?"

"I don't know...I can't think now," Kate said, whimpering. Though Quinn felt sadness for her sister, she also understood how easily it could happen.

"Well, what was it like?" Quinn finally asked her.

"It just happened. Quickly."

"Was there pain?"

"Not that I recall...maybe..."

Quinn hugged her little sister. "Get some rest, Kate. Will James Martin be here in the morning?"

Kate nodded.

"Try to talk to him then, so he's aware of the consequences," Quinn told her.

_xxxxx_

In his cabin, Sam made final preparations for their trip. He recalled the events of that day, swimming with Quinn in that large refreshing lake. Things were happening between them that he had never experienced before, had never anticipated, and he was somewhat nervous. In his journal, he penned: _Went swiming with Quinn t'day. We're becoming closer. I told her I'd speak to her pa abt aksing for her hand. I want to marry her...soon._

_xxxxx_

The next morning began early for the Fabray clan and Sam. Everyone seemed to be excited but Quinn noticed Kate's dour expression most of the morning, which was spent taking care of last-minute tasks. James Martin had arrived to see Kate before she left for the month. Kate pulled him away from the group and spoke with him quietly. When she returned to the wagons after James had ridden off, Quinn noticed she had been crying.

"Sister, what did he say?" Quinn asked her quietly.

"He said he loved me and he'd talk to papa when we return, if anything happens," Kate said.

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because I love him too!"

Quinn hugged her and told her to dry her tears or else their parents would catch on. Sam had pulled his wagon around to follow Quinn's father. She walked over to him, and he stepped down to speak to her before they left. He held her hands in his, loving how she looked when in her bonnet and plain dress. To him, she looked beautiful in anything she wore, from ball gowns to plain work clothes.

"This shall be an exciting trip, eh? I've never been to Richmond," he said to her.

"Neither have I. I've heard it's a bustling town, much larger than Lynchburg even," she said.

"I'm excited to explore it with you, Miss Quinn," he said, smiling. "I plan on talking to your pa during this trip, too."

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly and kissed him quickly along his jaw.

"I'll see you when we stop," she said and ran back to her father's wagon, climbing up at the front and taking a seat with next to Kate behind their parents.

Sam had her three younger brothers riding with him and Peyton and Martha were there, loaded up and ready to fall in line behind Sam.

Thomas snapped the reins of his four-horse team and their caravan of wagons lumbered down the drive to the road, first stop Bedford.

_xxxxx_

The first day of travel was hot and dry. The novelty wore off quickly for Quinn and her sister. They stopped once for lunch and then were on the road again. Thomas said travel was moving slower than he anticipated with their three full wagons; the trip to their destinations would probably take longer but coming home would go faster.

In Sam's wagon, the youngest Fabray, Joseph, sat next to him on the bench while the twins rough-housed in the back of the wagon. Sam continually had to yell at them to stop jerking the wagon around. He decided he was going to make them go with Peyton the next day. He had always been closest to Joseph, of all Quinn's siblings, probably because he was the most like Sam, quiet and introspective.

"You still like Mary from school?" Sam asked him, making conversation.

"Nah, now I like Francis Covington. She has pretty eyes," Joseph told him. "Are you gonna marry Quinny?"

_That came out of nowhere_, Sam thought. "I hope to, if your pa allows it. I think Quinny has pretty eyes, too."

"What about that lady in the picture?" Joseph asked him. _That kid doesn't forget a thing_.

"I'll always love her, too," Sam said distantly.

"Do you love Quinny? How can you love two ladies at the same time?" _Good question, kid_.

Sam shrugged. "You make room in your heart, I guess."

"Oh..." Joseph said. "I think I could love Mary and Francis too."

Sam laughed. "One at a time, young sir!"

"But you love two girls!"

"Not at the same time, though...Elizabeth was at one time and Quinny now." Sam tended to use Quinn's family nickname when speaking with Joseph.

"Why'd she die?"

"She got sick..."

"And the doctor couldn't help?"

"There was no doctor...it happened quickly," Sam said quietly.

"Did it make you sad?"

"Very sad."

"I think I'd be sad if Francis died," Joseph pondered.

"Well, don't worry yourself about something like that!" Sam said, reaching over and ruffling the 13-year-old's shaggy hair. "You're much too young."

"I like you, Sam. You're like a big brother."

"You already have three big brothers," Sam said, smiling.

"Well, those two are jackasses," Joseph said, thumbing back at the twins. "And Peyton is so much older than me."

"I'm older than Peyton..."

"But you listen to me..."

"Then I'll be your big brother, Joe...after I marry Quinny I'll officially be your big brother!" Sam told him.

Joseph smiled warmly at him. "Can I take the reins, Sam?"

"Sure..." He handed them over to Joseph and leaned back to nap for a bit, pulling his hat down far over his face. He thought how no one had ever called him a big brother before, not even his half-siblings in North Carolina. He was in a very happy place, feeling more a part of Quinn's family than ever before.

They rode in silence until stopping for the night, just before sundown.

The men pitched tents for the ladies while the ladies cooked supper over an open fire. One of the treats that evening was popcorn. After supper, they popped the corn and sat around the fire and listened to the elder Thomas Fabray tell how his ancestors came to Virginia from England. Sam sat next to Quinn, sharing the popcorn, engaged in the story. He didn't know much about his own family history and hearing about Quinn's was fascinating to him. When the Fabrays arrived from England around 1610 to James Towne, Indians were still present in the territory but they were helpful to the pilgrims until a struggle broke out between the natives and the colonists. Thomas Fabray mentioned an Indian girl, Pocahontas, the daughter of Chief Powhatan, who was captured by the colonists, thus ending the war. He said his great-great-grandfather had been involved in the capture of the beautiful Pocahontas and had witnessed the signing of the peace treaty.

Sam let his mind wander, thinking of how exciting and breathtaking it would've been to be involved in such events, fighting off Indians, protecting the women and children. He didn't like the idea of men taking a woman hostage but it resolved the matter so he supposed it was for the best and she had not been injured, even went on to marry John Rolfe, an early colonist in James Towne.

As the fire died down, it was decided the ladies should rest. The men were sleeping under no tent, just under the stars.

"I'll be right outside your tent should you need me in the night," Sam whispered to Quinn.

"Count the stars for me, Sam..." She ran a hand over his cheek, feeling his rough beard beginning to appear, smiled and ran off for the tent.

Sam set out his bedding near her tent, but not too close, under the watchful eye of her father, and lay back, hands behind his head, staring at the stars. He began counting them like she had asked and before long was snoring.

_xxxxx_

The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, and Quinn slipped out of the tent hoping to run off into the woods to relieve herself before anyone else woke up, anyone else being Sam Evans. The group was quiet, so she assumed she was the only one awake. She slipped her shoes on quickly and poked her head out of the tent and saw the men and boys on their various sleeping pads, mostly all snoring. She snuck out of the tent quietly and tiptoed past Sam, glancing down at him and then taking a double-take. His trousers were tented up at the crotch. She averted her eyes and practically ran to find a private tree. As she snuck back by him a couple minutes later, she glanced again and saw the same thing.

_I thought that only happened because of kissing?_ she thought. _I'm just going to ask Martha later_.

He looked so peaceful when asleep; she had to stare at him a couple more seconds before retreating back to her tent. When she did, he opened his eyes. He knew she had been looking at him; he didn't know for how long though as he only woke up when he heard her going back into the tent. He waited a few minutes and then got up himself to find a tree. At some point, he thought, this trip is going to get awkward.

_xxxxx_

Day #2 went much the same way as the first day of travel, though Sam did relegate the twins to Peyton's wagon. They finally arrived in Bedford at nightfall. They set up camp on the outskirts of Bedford. Quinn talked Martha into taking a walk with her.

"Are you feeling some better, sister?" Quinn asked her.

"Yes, much better," Martha replied.

"I have another question..."

"Go on..."

"I thought you said it only gets stiff when there's kissing...does it happen when they sleep too?" Quinn asked.

"Sometimes they wake up that way..." Martha replied.

"Oh..." Quinn wasn't quite sure what to think of that. She sighed. There was so much about the male species that she did not know.

The next morning, Thomas, Sam, and Peyton visited the general store to unload new inventory and then they were on the road again, next stop Lynchburg. Thomas finally relented and let Quinn and Kate ride with Sam and Joseph, and Peyton kicked the twins out of his wagon to their mother and father's wagon.

"Your pa said business is still going fine at the Bedford store. Hope we get the same good news in Lynchburg," Sam said to the three.

"You do such fine work, Samuel," Quinn mumbled from behind him.

"Can you teach me how to be a carpenter like you?" Joseph asked him.

"Sure Joe, I'd be happy to," Sam said.

To make the driving less boring, Quinn and Kate read from their poetry books and the Bible.

"The story your pa told us about his great-great-grandfather was interesting," Sam said at one point and the talk turned to Indians.

"I like hearing those stories, about history," Quinn said from behind him.

"Me too...I wish I knew about my own family," Sam said.

"You ought to write your pa and ask him, Sam!"

"I might do that from Lynchburg. I'll need your help with spelling, though. I don't want to send him a letter full of errors," Sam told her.

They drove on until nearly sundown, stopping at a wooded area off the road to make camp.

After supper, Sam was tired of sitting, which was all he had been doing the past few days. "Would you like to take a walk?" he asked Quinn, sitting at the fireside.

"I'd like that," she replied, wanting to stretch her legs also.

He held her hand and they walked down the road in silence for awhile.

"Joseph really likes you, Sam," she said.

"Yeah, he called me a big brother," Sam laughed a little. "He's a great kid."

More silence.

"I'd like for you to meet my pa's family someday," he said.

"I'd like that," she answered.

They had walked at least a half-mile down the road.

"We should probably head back," Sam said.

"Yes, they'll be looking for us," she laughed some.

As they neared the campsite and could see the smoldering campfire, he stopped her.

"I've missed you," he whispered, hugging her to him. He kissed her softly on the lips and pulled away.

"I haven't told you properly yet and you deserve it...I love you Quinn Fabray," he said quietly.

She smiled and he could see her blush even in the darkness. "I love you Sam Evans," she answered, kissing him back before they began walking again.

"I'll count the stars for you again tonight," he said to her, squeezing her hand. He wasn't sure what it meant, and neither was she, it was just something they shared between them that they found special.

"I wish I could count them with you," she whispered, kissing him on the cheek and running to the tent.

_xxxxx_

The next day, Quinn and Kate had to go back to their parents' rig and the twins were back with Sam and Joseph. The twins were identical and only could be told apart by Thomas Junior having a mole on his right ear. As they grew older, they learned that John could smear a bit of ash on his right ear and suddenly become Thomas. This provided them countless hours of entertainment, their parents, siblings, and friends countless hours of annoyance.

They were fighting in the back of Sam's wagon and when one of them hit the floor of the wagon after being thrown down, Sam handed the reins to Joseph and crawled into the wagon himself.

"Hey! You two need to calm down! I'm gonna stop your father and let him handle you!" Sam yelled, grabbing each boy by the collar, pulling them off one another. "Someone is gonna get hurt or something's gonna get broke but either way don't come cryin' to me!"

Both twins were 14. "You don't scare us Sam! What're ya gonna do? Whip us?"

_How could these two be brothers to Quinn Fabray?_ Sam wondered.

"If that's what you want," Sam said, matter-of-factly, and held the collar of one boy and let go of the other boy. He sat down on boxes in the wagon and yanked whichever twin over his lap, bottom up. Sam was obviously much stronger than either boy and needed to get the upperhand in the situation. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Joseph keep looking over his shoulder, not watching the road.

"Don't whip him Sam!" the other twin cried.

"Joe, watch the road!" Sam hollered in his general vicinity.

"Now, you either calm down and act normal or you're getting 10 lashes, your choice," Sam said calmly, looking around him for the leather straps they used to tie things down with. He pulled one from around a box and could feel the boy's body stiffen on his lap when he heard the sound of the leather strap.

"We're sorry Sam! We'll behave!" the twin on his lap cried. Sam glanced at the standing boy; his eyes were wide with fear. Sam had absolutely no intention of whipping either boy but if they were riding in his wagon he needed control.

"Why can't we drive the wagon like Joe?" The standing twin asked.

"If, and I mean _if_, you two behave, you all three can take turns. That means treating Joe nicely. The first time he tells me one of you two have hurt him or been rude, then this..." Sam snapped the leather strap, causing the twins _and_Joseph to jump. He let the twin on his lap scramble off. "Joe's gonna drive for the next hour...after we stop for dinner, if you two have behaved, you can take turns driving."

For the next hour or so before stopping for their noontime meal, Sam's wagon was quiet. The twins sat in the back playing checkers, sometimes watching out the back, talking quietly.

When they stopped, Sam pulled Mr. Fabray aside and told him what he had had to tell the twins.

"I have the leather strap, sir, but I don't intend on using it; Joseph saw the whole thing," Sam told him.

"Sounds like you put the fear of God into them, at least for awhile!" Thomas laughed. "Maybe Peyton and I should have a leather strap handy."

Sam and Quinn ate their lunch in the shade of a tree, apart from her family.

"Thomas and John were driving me crazy the entire morning but I think I got them under control...it just took a threat," Sam laughed.

"What kind of threat?"

"To be whipped with a leather strap...they behaved like angels after that!"

"Hmmm...they typically do not behave for mother or father or anyone, you must've got through to them," she said.

"Well, they can drive the wagon now for the rest of the day...so a threat and a bribe, I guess," he told her, smirking.

"I can rub your head for you," she told him, leaning up against the tree and letting him lay his head in her lap. She rubbed his temples and moved the sweaty hair away from his face.

"I hope your pa let's us stay in a lodge in Lynchburg...I need a bath...or at least camp near water," he mumbled, nearly falling asleep as she massaged his head.

"Mmm, yes, a bath would be nice," she mumbled too, the heat making her sleepy.

Before long, they were being shouted at to load the wagons. They had both drifted off to sleep in the shade.

_xxxxx_

That night, Thomas did stop near a river as everyone needed a bath, not just Sam. The men bathed first, and then the women. Quinn talked to her mother privately about their sleeping conditions.

"May I please sleep outside the tent tonight? The air inside the tent is just rank, and heavy, and suffocating," Quinn argued.

"It would be inappropriate for you to sleep near your suitor, Quinn Amelia, you know that," Miranda said, hanging clothes to dry.

"Mother, you know Kate snores like a sick sow, please, I need some rest," Quinn continued her argument.

"Your father will not agree to this," her mother said.

"If you approve it, he will. I'll sleep next to papa if that's what it takes," Quinn cried.

Her mother sighed. "I'll speak to your father."

Later, after supper, Quinn's mother pulled her aside. "I've spoken with your papa."

"Yes?"

"You may sleep right next to him and Sam is not to know," she said.

"How will Sam not know?"

"After he is asleep, your father will call for you to leave the tent," Miranda said.

"Thank you, mama. I might be able to get some rest tonight in the clean fresh air," Quinn said, hugging her. While it was true she wanted to get out of that tent and sleep in the fresh air, she truly wanted to sleep next to Sam, maybe even hold his hand. She couldn't be caught speaking to Sam alone either or her parents would know she told him. So, the first night she'd sleep next to her father, and she'd tell Sam the next day.

That night, her father poked his head in the tent sometime after the moon was high and told her to come outside if she still needed to. Quinn followed her father, wrapping a quilt around her shift. Her father's bedding was on the other side of the tent from Sam. At least it was nice to sleep in the fresh air. As she lay there next to her snoring father, she counted stars until she was asleep.

_xxxxx_

She woke up to the sound of what sounded like water being poured on the ground. Her father was still snoring next to her; it was just getting light out. She sat up a bit and looked in the general direction of the pouring water sound.

She saw Sam peeing. She knew she should avert her gaze and not stare but how could she not. She could see him holding his flaccid..._thing_...in his hand-she didn't know the word for it-standing next to a tree, very relaxed. Where his pants drooped down, she could see the white flesh of his hip. He turned her way a bit, looking down at himself, and she saw _hair_! She never thought about men having hair _there_. He tucked himself back into his pants and began walking toward where she and her father lay. She dropped quickly and covered up her head so he wouldn't see her blonde hair. Also, that _thing_ looked nothing like her brothers' when they were young children. _Of course not Quinn! He's a man!_ she thought.

"Quinn?" he whispered very quietly, right above her quilt, breaking her thoughts. She pulled the quilt down just to expose her eyes.

"Yes?" she squeaked.

"You slept outside last night?" he asked, again very quietly.

"Mmhmm..."

"G'morning then..." he smiled and went back to his bedding.

_xxxxx_

He expected her that evening and lay there pretending he was asleep, then heard Mr. Fabray get her from the tent. He chose to sleep the farthest from the tent that night. He only wanted to hold her; even though they had not said one word about it he knew she'd join him eventually.

She waited until her father was snoring loudly, just like Kate, and she stood up silently from her bedding, pulling the quilt up to the pillow, and stole over to where Sam lay, pretending to be asleep. She lay down next to him, on her side to face him.

"I've come to count the stars with you..." she whispered. He rolled onto his side to face her.

"This is wrong, Quinn. You need to go back to your bed," he said quietly. He leaned forward and kissed her chastely on the cheek. "G'night..." He closed his eyes, but she lay there motionless.

He reached out and put his hand on her upper arm, moving slowly down to her hand.

"How many stars are there tonight?" he asked, his eyes still closed.

"I only look at you, not the stars, tonight," she replied. She leaned into him, putting her lips on his. He moved his hand to her side, to her hip, pulling her against him.

"I'm weak around you...I say _no_ but don't mean it," he mumbled.

Her hand was trapped between them. She couldn't even force herself to back away from his mouth; all she could feel at that point was that her lips needed to be on his. She slowly, slowly moved her hand to the front of his pants. He broke the kiss then, leaning into her, breathing on her neck, whispering _no Quinn please no_.

"What happens? What happened at the lake?"

"I dunno..." he whispered.

"What do I do?" She just placed her hand on his hard length. It was pushing against his pants; she could feel his heat.

He swallowed thickly. "Quinn..."

"Please...show me what to do..."

He moved his hand over hers. "Rub it..." he whispered and began kissing her again.

He was moving her hand up and down his length, moaning quietly into her mouth, moving his hips against her hand. He was breathing so hard he couldn't even kiss her any longer but held his mouth just above hers, his body tensing up.

"It's...I..." he said, glancing down quickly at their hands moving together over his pants. He felt the heat explode then and let his eyes close, dropping his head against Quinn's. "Uh...uh...uh...uh..." he panted quietly, pressing her hand down hard on his penis.

His pants became wet under her palm from the warm fluid that spilled from him. She watched him lose control in the darkness, wondering how and why it had that kind of effect on him.

"I'm so embarrassed," he said finally.

"Don't be. This is something natural that we should share, that we should _want_ to share with each other," she whispered.

"I _do_ want to share this with you, but your pa'll kill me if he finds out...I mean, literally _kill_ me!"

"No, he wouldn't..." She kissed him on the forehead. "G'night..." She returned to her bedding, next to her still snoring father. She fell asleep thinking of being next to Sam on his bedding.

_xxxxx_

The next three days of travel were marred by steady rainfall. At their campsites, the tent was set up for the elder Thomas, Sam, and Peyton while the women and younger children made room in the wagons to sleep. Quinn hated it. Not only did she not get to spend time with Sam during the dreadfully boring travel but even meals were spent in the wagons to stay out of the rain. And meals in the rain were awful since they couldn't start a fire. And at night, it was too muddy to walk anywhere except to a nearby tree to take care of your private business. She was never so happy to see a sign proclaiming Lynchburg was just ahead.


	10. Rings

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 10-Rings**

**Lynchburg and Richmond, Virginia, July/August 1817**

Due to the rainy three days, in Lynchburg Thomas Fabray rented three hotel rooms for his group of 10. He and Miranda, Quinn, and Kate were in one room; Sam, the twins, and Joseph in the next room; and Peyton and Martha in the third room. Quinn was ecstatic to sleep in a real bed and be able to take a hot bath.

The first night there, Thomas took Miranda to dinner and Quinn and Kate were alone in the room.

"I thought about it, sister," Kate said solemnly.

"About what?"

"The dates, for my monthly. It should arrive in a week. I'll know when we get to Richmond. I already have a feeling about it," she said. Quinn thought she sounded very much like an adult while discussing something so serious.

"You do? How do you feel?" Quinn asked her.

"I feel like I'm with child, sister," Kate said, starting to cry. Quinn went to her and hugged her; she now didn't sound so grownup.

"You can't know yet…you're just worrying yourself into a quandary. Take a deep breath and calm yourself," Quinn said to her, stroking her strawberry blonde hair.

There was a light rapping at their door. Kate wiped the tears off her face quickly, trying to compose herself.

"Who is it?" Quinn asked.

"Me…" Sam said. Quinn looked at Kate questioningly. Kate nodded.

Quinn opened the door.

He held paper and a pencil in his hand. "Could you help me write the letter to my pa?"

"I'm not sure you should be in my room while my parents are away," she said, casting her eyes downward.

"I'll be your chaperone. Come in, Sam," Kate said, smiling.

He looked from her to Quinn and back to Kate. "Is everything okay? I can leave…"

"Everything's fine. Get started on your letter…" Kate said, reclining against the pillows.

"I guess over here?" Quinn said, gesturing toward a table and two chairs.

"That'd be fine," he said sitting down as she took a lamp from the dresser to set on the table. In the lamplight, she thought he looked absolutely handsome, wearing tan trousers and a white linen shirt, his eyes shiny and blue, his beard becoming fuller.

"The hot bath felt nice," he said quietly. "Though I can't shave."

"Your beard is nice; it's different," she said, reaching out to his face and stroking him gently along his fuzzy cheek.

"Thank you Quinn," he replied, looking at her in the lamplight. She had washed her hair and it was shiny and straight that night, her eyes deep and gazing at him, her skin pale pink and flawless.

"Okay, the letter to my pa…" he said, trying to concentrate on it and not her lips.

"Yes, your letter. I think you should be cordial, no sense in being rude and hateful, even if that's how he was to you for so many years, just be a gentleman, like you always are," she said, smiling.

"I'll tell you what I want to say and you tell me how to word it…"

"Okay…"

"_Dear Pa, I am writing to ask how you and your family is…_" Sam told her.

"How 'bout: _Dear Pa, I am writing to inquire about you and your family_. How does that sound?"

"Perfect. How do you spell _inquire_?" She told him and he went on.

"_I'm doing fine in Virginia. I'm working as a carpenter for Mister Thomas Fabray. We've gone to Richmond to sell my woodwork…_"

"Hmm, okay: _I'm doing well in Virginia. I'm employed as a master carpenter for Mister Thomas Fabray. We're traveling to Richmond to sell my pieces there, as they are selling quickly in Roanoke, Bedford, and Lynchburg_." she said.

He wrote quickly, and she checked his spelling and corrected a few minor spelling errors.

"_I'd like to come see you all soon. I'd like to learn more about the Evans family history. There is also someone special I'd like you to meet._" Sam smiled at her then.

"_I'd like to visit you all soon as I'd like to learn more about our family history. There is also someone special I'd like you to meet. _Leave that as it is," she said, beaming.

"_The Feazels are faring good. Grandmother is still spry. I visit mother's grave often_," he said quietly.

"_The Feazels are faring well_. The rest sounds perfect," Quinn said.

"That's all I have to say. How should I sign it?"

"How do you want to sign it?"

He shrugged. "_Your son, Sam_?"

She scrunched up her brow. "Maybe _With love, your son, Sam_…"

He looked down at the letter. "I'm not sure I love him, Quinn."

It was sad to hear him utter those words but she understood what he meant, how he'd been hurt for so many years by the man.

"Then leave it as _Your son, Sam_…that's fine," she said, running her fingers over his hand.

He signed it, folded it, and put a wax seal on it. He wrote his father's name on the front and his county of residence in North Carolina and stood up.

"I'm taking this to the front desk. Do you think he'll respond?" Sam asked her as she walked him to the door of the room.

"He _should_ respond as he is your father, but I don't know if he will or not," she said quietly, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

"Thank you for your help," he said and went downstairs.

xxxxx

At the Lynchburg general store, Fabray Fine Goods were sold out. The owner bought more inventory and handed Thomas an order for even more. He had to tell the owner it'd be at least a month or more before they could get back. Of the three wagons, one was empty, one was full, and one was half full as they left Lynchburg for the final long leg of their trip to Richmond.

And a long leg, it was. They spent 12 more days on the road, stopping in two small towns but otherwise camping out. The twins were back to acting up and being shuffled from wagon to wagon daily. Peyton and Martha were arguing. Joseph was coughing, they thought due to the damp weather they went through before reaching Lynchburg. That was one positive of day after day of traveling…no rain from Lynchburg to Richmond. Sam and Quinn could find no time to be alone together, either due to nosy family members or pure exhaustion from the trip or the fact neither one of them had bathed in at least a week. Also, Quinn was suffering through her monthly cycle and would just as soon stay in the wagon day in and day out. The only ones still in good spirits, really, were Mr. and Mrs. Fabray.

On August 1st, Quinn noticed more and more houses lining the road closely, not spread out like farmhouses, but nearly on top of one another. The noise level around them increased, also, with many wagons and carriages and horse riders passing by them. She could feel it. They were on the outskirts of Richmond!

_xxxxx_

Thomas Fabray led the three wagons to downtown Richmond. He had been to Richmond several times in the past and had basic knowledge of the layout of the busy town. He chose a hotel and rented three rooms for a week. Sam and Peyton took the luggage to the rooms and then the wagons to the nearby livery.

First things first, the ladies got to take hot baths. Quinn didn't want to get out of her bath, it felt so good. She finally did, though, her skin all wrinkled and pruny. In their room Quinn and Kate were sharing with their parents, they lay down on their bed to rest.

"Quinny?"

"Yes sister?"

"I haven't got my monthly yet…I remember…I had it last before the Fourth of July so it should've begun a week ago…I'm really scared Quinny…" Kate said quietly. Quinn looked at her little sister whose bottom lip was quivering. Quinn reached for her hand. Kate had just turned 16 the day before.

"It'll be okay, Kate. Maybe you should write James Martin?"

"What if mother and father find out?"

"They'll find out eventually…"

Quinn and Kate sat down at the small table in the room, much like she had sat there with Sam as he wrote his letter. Kate had a piece of paper and an ink well and pen.

"I don't know what to say..." she said to Quinn.

"Speak from your heart, sister," Quinn replied.

_Dearest James,_

_We have arrived in Richmond without too much issue. There was rain some days, but we stayed close to papa's traveling schedule. I am writing to inform you that are going to be a father. I have been to see a physician here who has confirmed my fears. I have not yet told mama or papa._

_Yours in love, Kate_

"I'm not sending it until I see a doctor, Quinny. You'll have to take me," Kate mumbled.

"How sister? I have no money. We don't know a doctor in this town," Quinn said surprised.

"I don't know but you need to help me, please..."

Quinn sighed. This was not how she envisioned her trip to Richmond.

"Did mother notice you missed your monthly? It should've been the same time as mine," Quinn asked her. In recent months, they were confined to their bedchamber together for the same reason.

"She didn't say anything to me," Kate told her.

"Don't despair, Kate. Let me think on it and try to find a solution," Quinn reassured her as best possible. Her sister looked quite pale and frightened.

_xxxxx_

The next morning, Thomas, Sam, and Peyton set out to find the largest general store in Richmond. While her mother was tending to Joseph, still ailing, and Kate and Martha watched the twins, Quinn slipped downstairs to the front desk and asked for the name of a reputable physician. They gave her the name of a Dr. Darrow, located on Main Street, and asked if she was ill. She lied and said no, it was her brother. She wrote down the information on a small piece of paper and returned to their room.

Later that afternoon, the three men returned with good news. The large general store there bought most of the inventory they had left. Thomas was very excited about this and wanted to treat the family to supper in the hotel. The hotel itself was opulent for the time, including a restaurant on site plus the bathing facilities. Quinn decided that the days of traveling beforehand were worth it to stay in such a fancy building.

At supper, all were there except for Quinn's mother and Joseph. He was still ill, battling a cough and fever now, and it was decided that he should see a physician. Quinn overheard her mother mention _consumption_ to her father and that concerned her greatly. Even under the stress she was experiencing related to her sister's condition and her baby brother's illness, she was still happy to sit next to Sam at supper. He was happy too, with the success of his carpentry. He had saved most of his money since beginning to work for Thomas Fabray and while at the large general store he had looked at wedding rings again.

She asked Sam to take a walk with her after supper. The hotel had a beautiful spacious garden, lit with torches at nighttime, so he offered his arm and they strolled down the paths silently, taking in the scent of different flowers. Finding a bench, they sat down. She grasped his hand and turned to face him.

"I need to beg of you a favor," she began. To him, she looked very serious, worried even.

"Anything Quinn..." he said, concerned for her.

"I need to ask you to escort Kate and me to a physician tomorrow. Also, I don't have any money to pay him," Quinn said, keeping her head lowered. She hated asking him for help and, even worse, money.

"You and Kate? What about Joe...isn't he going to see a doctor?"

"Mother's taking him. Kate also needs to be seen," she said.

"Is she ill too? Does your ma know?" Sam asked completely worried now.

Quinn shook her head _no_ quickly. "Ma and pa _can't_ know..."

"Why?"

Quinn looked at him, and he stared back at her. Then, his eyes opened wide.

"She's with...?"

"We think so," Quinn mumbled quietly.

"Oh, well, uh, yeah, I can take you tomorrow. What are you telling your ma?"

"That we're going to look at the town...I don't know what else to say," Quinn said. "When we return home, she'll have James Martin return your money to you."

He squeezed her hand. "We'll figure that out later. We best head back..." He kissed her hand, and they returned to the hotel.

_xxxxx_

Through the night, Joseph continually coughed, his mother tending to him. They had moved him into their room. Quinn heard her mother say he was _burning up with fever_. Finally, Miranda woke Quinn and Kate and told them to go to Peyton's room to sleep there; they were putting Joseph in his own bed and calling for a doctor. He was coughing up blood at that point.

Quinn and Kate did as they were told but hesitantly, not wanting to leave the side of their youngest brother. Their mother, and now even their father, seemed very concerned about Joseph's well-being, enough to call for the doctor in the middle of the night.

They woke up Peyton and Martha and told them what was going on. Peyton and Martha started for the room but Quinn said _no, mama said to say here_. Her mother thought it was contagious and didn't want the rest of the family to be too close to him.

Quinn tried to rest in the other room but kept hearing the deep coughs in her mind. Finally, she snuck over to Sam's room and knocked lightly on his door. He opened it eventually, in only his trousers, his hair a mess, his eyes sleepy. Seeing her, he was suddenly wide awake. She fell into his arms crying, trying to tell him about Joseph. He brought her into his room and shut the door. He put her in his bed and made up his own bed on the floor next to her. They whispered together through the night, how scared they were for the young boy in the next room. She told him what had happened, prompting her mother to send her and Kate from the room, and Sam was worried. They were all aware of the consequences of consumption, and Joseph had all the signs and symptoms.

"Quinn, we can pray for him," Sam whispered from the floor.

She agreed and said some broken words asking God to heal Joseph or at least put him out of his misery and then was crying again. It killed Sam to hear her utter those words, but unfortunately he knew they needed to be said.

They fell into an uneasy sleep until the twins woke them a couple hours later.

"Quinny? Why are you in here?" younger Thomas asked her.

"I needed to see Sam..." she said half-asleep. She glanced down at the floor but he was gone.

She sat up on the side of the bed but didn't see him in the dark room. She pulled her robe around her and stepped out into the hall to go see her parents.

She found Sam sitting at Joseph's bedside. The coughing had stopped. Joseph still looked pale but was at least resting. Her mother and father were asleep.

"I told your parents I'd sit with him so they could rest," Sam said quietly. "The doctor said it isn't consumption. He gave him some elixir for the cough and fever, said it was peripneumonia or catarrhal bronchitis. His fever broke a bit ago."

Quinn sat down at Joseph's bedside, exhausted. She was so sure she'd wake up and he wouldn't be with them anymore.

"When Kate arises, we can go exploring, if you want," he said quietly.

She sighed. That still needed to be taken care of.

"Did the doctor say he was going to get better?" she asked.

"He said it would take some time for him to regain his strength but he should heal," Sam told her.

"Praise God," she muttered, holding Joseph's warm limp hand in hers. "Thank you, Sam, for sitting with him. He thinks so highly of you."

"When my late wife was ill, it helped her if I was with her. So she wouldn't feel so alone..." he said.

"She must look down on you and smile, Sam," Quinn said to him.

_xxxxx_

A bit later, Quinn's parents had awakened and Quinn went to wake Kate. She sat on the edge of Kate's bed and gently nudged her shoulder.

"Sister!" she whispered. "Please rise! Joseph is better this morn!"

Kate opened her eyes and processed that information and smiled. "So good to hear sister!" She sat up slowly. "I need to tell you something though..."

"I need to tell _you_ something...Sam has agreed to take us _exploring_ today so you need to get dressed quickly," Quinn told her. She emphasized the word _exploring_, that being their code word for _going to see the doctor_.

"Bless him...you have met such a wonderful man, Quinn," Kate said. She paused, picking at the quilt covering her. "Remember how I told you about what happened that day at the lake?"

Quinn nodded.

"It wasn't the first time..."

Quinn must've looked shocked because Kate gripped her arm. "Yes, sister, it happened some time before that...I think I'm further along...I've missed two monthlies..."

"Oh my..." Quinn whispered. Saying the baby _came early_ wouldn't quite work in this case if the baby weighed a normal weight at birth.

"I'll get dressed..." Kate said, wearily.

_xxxxx_

While Quinn accompanied Kate into Dr. Darrow's office, Sam waited outside in the wagon. He felt it would not be appropriate to go inside with them under the circumstances. He had given Quinn ten dollars and told her to come get him if she needed more money.

The doctor's office was in a large three-story brick building, on the third floor. In his office, they were not the only ones waiting. There were three other young girls and their companions sitting there. Kate gave her information to a lady at the desk, and she and Quinn sat down.

The other three ladies were called back one by one and finally, an hour after being there, Kate was called back. In the exam room, she was told to sit on the table and Quinn sat in a chair next to her.

Dr. Darrow came in, a grumpy-looking little man, and asked what her ailment was.

"I think I'm 2 months gone with child, doctor," Kate said flatly.

He asked her a few questions, had her lay back on the table while he palpated her lower abdomen, and then gave her a glass jar and told her he needed a urine sample to examine under the microscope. She excused herself into a small closet-like room for collecting such a sample and returned handing it to the doctor.

He checked it under the microscope right then and stood up to face Kate. "Congratulations, Mrs. ...? You are indeed with child!"

"Fabray," she mumbled.

"Fabray? I saw a little boy last night for catarrhal bronchitis by the last name of Fabray," Dr. Darrow said, amused.

Quinn and Kate looked at each other stunned.

"Thank you, doctor," Quinn finally mumbled.

They went to the lady at the desk who told them that Kate's exam was eight dollars.

When they finally made it out to the wagon, Kate finally broke down and cried. Quinn handed Sam the two dollars and said James Martin would reimburse him the eight dollars when they returned.

"So...it's true?" he asked quietly.

Quinn nodded.

From behind them, Kate asked if he could drive them past the post office; she had a letter to mail.

_xxxxx_

At the hotel, Thomas and Miranda Fabray were waiting on their daughters to return. When they entered the room, they first saw Joseph sitting up in bed, sipping on soup. They then realized their parents were staring at them.

"Something interesting happened last evening, ladies," their father said. "When I went to the front desk to inquire about the assistance of a physician I was told that my daughter had already asked for a doctor's name and location. Explain."

Quinn looked at Kate. Kate reached out and grabbed Quinn's hand.

"Father, it was I who asked about a doctor..." Quinn said.

"For yourself?"

"No sir..."

"Then for whom, pray tell?"

"For me, papa," Kate murmured. "I went to see Dr. Darrow to confirm what I thought to be true."

"Are you ailing, daughter?" Miranda asked worriedly.

"No ma'am...I'm pregnant," Kate whispered.

_xxxxx_

There was complete silence for at least a minute. Finally, Thomas told Quinn she could leave the room. Quinn hugged her sister quickly and left the room, not knowing where to go. She wound up downstairs in the lobby of the hotel and sat down, watching life pass by through a large window. She knew Kate would eventually get over the sadness of her situation; it was the crushing disappointment from their parents that was the worst. _If her attraction to James Martin is as fierce as my attraction to Sam Evans, it's a wonder I'm not in the same position as Kate_, Quinn thought.

Sometime later, she felt his presence behind her. "Would you like to really go exploring now?" he asked. She looked up at him.

"I'd love to," she said, taking his hand.

They walked to the livery and he retrieved his wagon. The day was a beautiful early August day, warm but not blazing hot. He drove them around the large town of Richmond, going by the capitol building. He parked the wagon and they walked around downtown Richmond. He took her to the general store to show her his furniture pieces on display, already noting a couple sold. He directed her around the store until finally they were at the counter in front of the rings.

"I know how worried you've been over Joseph and Kate the past few days. I want to see you smile again; I want to make you as happy as you've made me, Quinn. I want to make a commitment to you. Pick one..." he said softly, gesturing toward the rings.

She looked at them and back to Sam, tears threatening to spill over down her cheeks. "Sam, I can't-"

"I never bought a ring for Liz and I've regretted it every day since. Pick one..."

"Have you even talked to papa? Today might not be the best day; Kate told them about her predicament," Quinn said, gazing down at the bands of silver and gold.

"Oh..." he said. "No, I haven't talked to him yet. Pick one..."

She giggled at his insistence. The bands were all plain of differing widths. She tried on a silver slim band, then a wider gold band. She liked how the silver one shined in the lamplight in the store. The wider band looked too large on her long fingers. He watched her trying them on, seeing a smile play at her lips as she would put one on and hold her hand up at different angles to admire it.

"I like the silver one," he whispered to her. She knew in her heart, they were meant to be.

"The silver one it is, Sam!" she said, hugging him openly in public.

He chose a matching silver band and paid two days' wages for them.

_xxxxx_

They bought food for dinner and walked to a nearby park to eat and enjoy the day.

"Thank you for taking me all around Richmond, Sam. It's made my day so much better," she said.

"I've never seen a bigger town, not even when I served in the militia and we traveled up the coast," he told her.

"Did you see the ocean?"

"Yes...it's wondrous, unbelievable, you can't see where the water ends, it just goes on forever," he said, laughing a little. "When I saw the Atlantic for the first time, you know what I thought of?" She shook her head. "The creek in the forest...I remembered playing there with two other children."

She smiled. "What happy days those were, so simple."

He glanced at her sharply. It was like she had read his mind.

"You know, it's not the end of the world, with your sister and James Martin," he said.

"I know, it was just how disappointed mama and papa looked. At least Kate told them and didn't try to hide it. Papa will probably want to castrate James Martin," Quinn said, and Sam grimaced. She had heard the term _castrate_ used when talking about bulls so she figured it was pretty heinous.

"Let's look at the rings again!" she said, and he pulled the small pouch from his pants pocket. They tried them on and admired them for awhile before removing them and walking back to the wagon.

_xxxxx_

At the hotel, they were told that since Joseph was feeling better they'd be heading for home the next morning. Kate pulled Quinn aside and told her she thought it was mainly due to her present situation that their parents felt the need to return home sooner than expected. She told Quinn that there was no yelling, just utter disappointment and that they expected her to be married soon. She said that their mother even talked to her finally about sex and pregnancy. In a way, Quinn was jealous of her mother having that conversation with Kate.

Sam and Quinn went to supper with Peyton and Martha, Kate, and the twins. Kate confessed to her siblings and Martha about her pregnancy.

The twins didn't really care; they were too busy trying to fool the waiters. Peyton and Martha were understandably shocked.

"Your reputation, sister!" Martha whispered.

"It's too late to worry about that now," Kate said, resignedly. "Once the initial surprise wore off for mama and papa, they were actually happy for me...their first grandchild is on the way!"

"Does James know?" Peyton asked.

"I've written him and informed him of the fact. Papa said he must marry me once we return home," she told them.

"When do you expect the baby to arrive?" Martha asked her.

"Mama figured February next," Kate said.

"I'm happy for you, sister," Quinn said, squeezing her hand. She firsthand knew how hard this was for Kate and was proud of her for being honest with the family and not trying to hide it any longer.

After supper, they returned upstairs as they were leaving Richmond early the next morning. Sam left Quinn at her room, and she and Kate disappeared inside. He stood there in the hallway for a couple minutes and then knocked lightly on the door. Kate answered.

"Sam?"

"May I speak with your father, please?" he asked politely, gripping his hat in his hands. This was their last night there and he had promised Quinn he'd speak to her father. Thomas Fabray stepped up to the door.

"Yes, Samuel?"

"I'd like for you to take a walk with me, if I may request your presence, as I have an issue to discuss with you, privately," Sam said, stumbling over the words. Quinn watched from her spot on Joseph's bed.

"A walk?" He paused, wondering why Sam would want to speak to him privately. "_Oh!_ Certainly...let me get my hat, son," Thomas said and followed him out the door.

_xxxxx_

Outside the hotel, Sam put his hat back on and shoved his hands in his pockets, feeling the pouch holding two rings in his right pocket. He grasped it and hoped he'd find the right words to say to her father.

"You're nervous, son. About what do you wish to speak with me?" Thomas asked, striking a match and lighting his pipe. "These matches work wonders..." he mumbled, shaking his fist to dim the flame.

"Yes, sir. You told me to come to you when I was ready. I'm ready, sir, to marry your daughter," Sam said quickly.

"Please don't tell me you've got her in the same predicament as Catherine," Thomas groaned.

"No sir! No!" Sam said aghast. "I am asking your permission to allow her to marry me before she turns 18, though." He paused a moment and went on. "Because I'm afraid something like that might happen soon."

He hoped that didn't anger Mr. Fabray, but it was the truth.

"I see." Thomas sighed. "Well, I've known you now for nearly a year, you've not once been foul to Quinny, you have means to support her. What do you want as her dowry?"

Sam stopped. "Dowry, sir? I want no dowry; I just want her. You've given me enough this past year."

"How old are you, son?"

"I'll be 21 on the 25th of this month, sir," Sam said.

"You do realize Quinny is still 16?"

"She'll be 17 in just a few days, sir," Sam replied.

"And your late wife? Have you dealt with your grief of losing her?"

Sam sighed. "Your daughter has helped me much with that grief, sir. She has become my best friend."

Thomas began walking again. Sam stood there and then jogged to catch up with him.

"I bought these today, sir," Sam said, pulling the pouch from his pocket, letting the rings fall into his hand and then showed them to Quinn's father. "I'll marry her someday, whether you approve or not."

Thomas chuckled, inspecting the silver bands. "One thing I've always admired about you, Sam, is your forthrightness. You're as blunt as hell...and I like it! Of course you may marry Quinny! As a test of your will and to test your compatibility, Quinn will ride in your wagon the entire trip back to Franklin County. Joseph seems to have taken to you so he will ride with you two, and sleep with you also."

"Beg pardon?"

"I would assume you'd be sleeping in your wagon now that it's empty?" Thomas asked.

"Quinn and Joseph can sleep in the wagon; I'm fine on the earth," Sam said, thinking it'd be hard to keep away from her if she was sleeping next to him, whether her brother was in the wagon or not.

"Very strong will, eh?" Thomas said, chuckling again.

"Thank you, sir, for hearing me out. May I tell Quinn the good news?" Sam asked.

"You may. When did you two start courting?"

"Around Christmas last," Sam said.

"Then you can be married sometime after Christmas this year," Thomas told him. Sam thought was fair, since it was going against his 'Quinn must be 18 years old to marry' rule.

"Thank you again sir," Sam said. He counted up the months in his head, at least 4 months left in the year. He was going to have to have the patience of Job around her.

_xxxxx_

Thomas entered the hotel room and Quinn looked at him expectantly. She and Kate were sitting with Joseph, listening to him read.

"Your gentleman friend wishes the presence of your company in the courtyard," Thomas said, trying to hide the smirk.

"Papa, what did he ask of you?"

"He will tell you himself," Thomas said. "Now go on before there is no night left and it is morning!"

"Go to Sam, Quinny," Joseph said, smiling weakly.

"Yes go, sister! We all want to know what this private discussion entailed!" Kate said, giggling.

"How do I look?" Quinn said, standing up from the bed, excited to go see Sam.

"You look radiant...now go!" Kate said, laughing.

Quinn walked over to where her mother sat. "Mama? What should I say to him?"

"Whatever is in your heart, dearest. Now go to him..." _My heart is leaping in bounds, all the words there are jumbled up_, Quinn thought, checking her image in the mirror and leaving the room.


	11. Test of Will and Capability

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 11-Test of Will and Compatibility**

**Richmond, Lynchburg, and Bedford, Virginia, August 1817**

Sam sat on the bench they sat on before, awaiting her arrival, turning the rings over and over in the palm of his hand. He wondered if his mother and Elizabeth were proud of him for falling for such a beautiful smart girl and winning her over. He knew he was proud of himself for speaking so candidly to her father about how he felt for Quinn and was thankful her father was in good humor after receiving Kate's news earlier that day. He was also thankful they had taken the time to become friends. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Quinn was approaching him. He looked over at her, walking slowly toward him in a white dress with little blue flowers all over it, her hands clasped together in front of her, her hair in a ponytail. He stood up to greet her.

"Sam? Papa said you wanted to see me..."

"He gave us his blessing, Quinn!" Sam blurted out. "We can get married!"

She inhaled sharply, bringing her hands to her mouth, squealing a little.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't much of a proposal, I s'pose..."

She threw her arms around his neck and he swung her around. Holding her in his arms, feeling her breathe and cry against his neck, he felt a whole new level of happiness.

He set her down finally and they sat on the bench. "What did he say?" she asked.

"He asked if I had got you in the same situation as your sister," Sam said, blushing as he said the words out loud. Her hands flew to her face again and she cringed.

"Don't be angry but I told him that I wanted to marry you before you turned 18 because I was afraid something like that might happen soon..."

She couldn't even look at him, she was so embarrassed by this talk. Finally, she took his face in her hands and began planting tiny kisses all about his cheeks and lips. He laughed and started kissing her back until their lips were attached to one another's. Sam pulled away from her slowly, looking into her eyes as they shined with tears in the moonlight.

"He also is putting me through a test of willpower..."

She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"You are riding with me the entire trip back home, along with Joseph. He even said we could sleep in the back of the wagon since it's empty now but I told him you and Joe could sleep there, I'll gladly sleep on the ground. He wants to make sure we're compatible," Sam told her.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Sounds like he's trying your patience more like it."

"That could be too, but still I'm going to be a gentleman. Even if it rains...I'll sleep on the wagon bench...but I will not so much as peep at you in your shift."

"Samuel!" She was joking with him, remembering swimming in her shift and how close they had been that day.

"So, what'd'ya say, Quinn Fabray? Will you marry me?" he asked her, sliding off the bench onto one knee, holding her hand and gazing up at her.

"Of course I will, Samuel Evans!" she said, brightly. He moved back to the bench to keep kissing her in the moonlight.

_xxxxx_

It was difficult to sleep that night, for both Sam and Quinn. Many thoughts were rushing through their minds…setting up a household, starting a family, just getting through the trip home without arguing. Sam was so easy to get along with; they had never argued.

Quinn was considering when to set a wedding date. She thought before the end of the year sounded perfect. Sam forgot to tell her what her father told him, though.

In his journal, he wrote simply: _Ask'd Quinn Amelia Fabray to merry me. She siad yes._

They set out for home the next morning. In Sam and Quinn's wagon, Sam set up a bed for Joseph so he could rest when needed. That first day, Quinn sat right next to Sam on the bench, their knees touching. Occasionally, she'd plant tiny kisses on his hairy cheek or run her fingers through his whiskers and he'd laugh. Sometimes, he let her take the reins while he rested. Sometimes, she'd crawl in the back and keep Joseph company as the wagon rumbled down the road.

Since they had no loads to haul, they were moving quickly toward Franklin County. As their first night back on the road began, they stopped to make camp as the sun set. Kate lay with her head in Quinn's lap due to her nausea and let Quinn rub her head with a cool damp cloth.

"I feel awful, sister," Kate moaned.

"I know…" Quinn replied. She really didn't know but was at a loss for how to comfort her sister. Kate suddenly jumped up, running to the trees, throwing up. Sam helped Joseph out of their wagon so he could get some fresh air and try to eat something.

Being the first week of August, the nights were still generally warm and sticky. Sam did as he told Quinn's father; he set up his sleep pallet next to the wagon and let Quinn and Joseph sleep inside. In a way, she was glad he did do that because she stripped down to her shift due to the humidity and heat.

_This isn't too bad_, Sam thought. _Fresh air, so many stars in the heavens, Quinn is just over my shoulder, we're getting married in a few months!_

By the sixth night of sleeping on the ground, though, Sam's tune had changed. His back ached, it was hot outside, bugs were eating him alive, and then a thunderstorm blew up. He had to crawl into the back of the wagon with Quinn and Joseph due to the dangerously close lightning strikes.

She was holding Joseph as he was frightened by the storm, wearing only her shift. Due to the heat, she had been wearing her hair in a braid all the time, even when she slept, and he saw it hanging over her shoulder as she rocked Joseph.

Sam sat down next to them and wrapped his arms around them both, trying to calm them. Then, he realized he was rubbing her bare shoulder and dropped his arms.

"Is it gonna end soon, Sam?" Joseph asked, his face pinched up in terror.

"I think so, Joe, just hang on…we'll be okay," Sam said, glancing at Quinn.

It finally moved out of their area and things quieted down.

"I'm gonna sleep in here, Quinn; the ground is too wet outside," Sam told her, pulling his shirt off and lying down on the other side of Joseph. "G'night dear."

"G'night Sam…" she whispered, lying on her back on the opposite side of Joseph. "I'm gonna close my eyes and pretend I see the stars."

"Good idea Quinn…"

Shortly after their brief conversation, she heard him snoring quietly. The next thing she knew the sun was waking them up.

_xxxxx_

They were about two days away from Lynchburg on the day Quinn turned 17. Birthday wishes were all she expected from her family and Sam. They usually did not exchange gifts on birthdays. It was a hot and humid August 9th. At this point, if she rode on the wagon bench with Sam she scooted to the other side; sitting too close to one another increased the heat between them and it became unbearable. And everyone was in desperate need of a bath.

That night, they stopped and made camp next to a river. They took turns bathing in the water, basically rinsing off the sweat and dirt, women first, then men.

"Sam?" Joseph asked him in the water.

"Yeah?"

"Can you move my bed outside tonight so I can sleep next to you? Quinny snores and it's too hot in the wagon at night," Joseph told him.

Sam laughed, dipping his head in the cool rushing water.

"Sure, Joe," he said.

Later, Sam set up his bedding and Joseph's on the ground. He walked up to Quinn, helping her mother prepare supper.

"Tonight, we sleep under the stars," he whispered to her and walked off. She smiled to herself.

At suppertime, her father presented her with another leather-bound book for her birthday, this time a small novel titled _The Bracelets_. Martha and Kate brought her wildflowers and her mother had made a crumbcake in the deep iron skillet.

Sam and Quinn took a short walk after supper, hand in hand.

"The river was so refreshing today," Quinn said.

"It was. Your mother taught me a new trick…she said to use some bicarbonate of soda once a day, swish it around in my mouth with water, to keep my teeth clean…do you think it worked?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Your teeth are perfect. Here is the true test…" she stopped him and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"Mmm…yes, it worked," she murmured.

On the way back to camp, he mentioned how clear the night sky was.

"So that we may count the stars, correct?"

He looked at her and smiled. "Correct."

He set up her bedding on the other side of Joseph's. They both stayed fully dressed. They lay on their sides facing one another, talking quietly over Joseph.

"I'll never forget this trip, Samuel," she whispered.

"Neither will I. Happy birthday, Quinn," he replied, rolling to his back, lacing his hands behind his head.

"It's a lovely night…millions of stars overhead…how can that be possible Sam?" she asked, gazing up at them.

"I don't know…it's God's beauty, though…only He could create something as wondrous as this night sky," Sam said quietly.

As he drifted off to sleep, he thought _Quinn's 17 now…her father gave me permission to marry her at the turn of the year…she'll be my wife in a few short months…she'll be in my arms every night...  
><em>

The next day was hot and humid. Traveling seemed to be taking forever; they were desperate to get to Lynchburg where Thomas had promised a hotel stay for one night.

As the wagon trudged down the road, Quinn said, "I wonder if James Martin knows about Kate yet."

Sam didn't think it was his place to discuss her sister's delicate condition and didn't say anything.

Quinn went on. "She sent him a letter after the doctor confirmed her fears."

Still, Sam was silent on the matter.

"I just hope the thrashing isn't too awful for her…"

"The thrashing? You think he'll _beat_ her?" Sam asked.

Quinn looked at him like he was new to their society. "She expects it. _We_ expect it, Sam. Ma and pa told us early on what to expect from our spouses."

"You expect it? And your parents told you to expect it?"

"Pa said that sometimes a woman needs to 'kept in line' and a good thrashing fills that need," she said, matter-of-factly. "Ma's last thrashing wasn't too awful."

"May I ask you something?" he asked, picking up her hand.

"You may," she said.

"Do you expect a thrashing from me?" he inquired, lowering his voice.

"I'm sure I'll do something at some point to deserve a good thrashing, Sam. That's your station. Yes, I expect it." She sat stoically next to him, though her hand trembled in his.

"Okay. You should know that I do not believe in hitting women under any circumstance _ever_. You will never suffer a thrashing at my hand, Quinn Amelia," he said to her.

She shook her head _no_. "Sam, as a man it is your right, your _privilege_, to keep a woman in line as you see fit. I'm sure I'll speak out of turn or behave angrily or complain about my lot in life and it is your _duty_ to deal with me…as you see fit."

"I find words work a lot better than thrashing, and that's how I see fit to keep you in line," he chuckled.

She snorted. "Shatter with words, impossible to follow…I'd rather be whipped!"

He looked at her. "You're saying my words are worse than a thrashing?"

She nodded. "If you said harsh words to me, I couldn't bear it. I'd take a whipping before you speak harshly to me."

They rode in silence for awhile.

Again, he said, "I don't believe in hitting women, Quinn. If you think that makes me less of a man, then so be it."

She didn't say anything. What he told her went against what her _parents_ had told her. She wasn't sure how to take this information.

"Also, I'll never own a black man," he added. She looked at him. In her heart, she hated slavery, as well. Patsy, who her parents titled _domestic servant_, was paid for her work at their house and was free. Quinn's ancestors were Quaker and even though her immediate family was not Quaker they still did not tolerate slavery.

"Are you Quaker?" she asked him.

"No…my great-grandfather Byrum was. Him and his wife were preachers in the South River Meeting. Byrum Evans, my pa's grandfather," he told her. "My grandfather Amos was a Quaker and my father was too until he was disowned for using profanity."

"I see," she said, digesting this information.

More silence.

"You say my harsh words would be worse than a thrashing?" he asked her.

She nodded.

"My words aren't meant to hurt you…ever. My words would never be harsh toward you, Quinn. I'm not sure how to get you to believe that other than just show you, day after day, how much I love you and continue to grow in love with you," he said.

She held her breath as he spoke.

"If it helps, you can tell your pa I whipped you for being out of line but keep in mind that'll be a lie you tell," he told her. "I don't approve of hitting women or telling lies."

Sam Evans was definitely not like any other boy she had ever met. It was common knowledge, at least in Franklin County, Virginia, that the male spouse had the right to "thrash" his wife if she was out of line in any way. That could be asking him where he had been and why he smelled of liquor to him catching her with another man. It ran the gamut of being smacked across the face to being whipped with a leather strap to actual broken bones, depending on the infraction. Her parents had told her and Kate when they were young girls that as women this was their lot in life, they should expect it if they behaved in such a manner that their husband deemed they were due a thrashing. They wanted their daughters to be educated and they felt this was part of their education. Over the years, there were only a handful of times that Quinn could remember her father doling out a thrashing to her mother and even then it was only a slap. As she got to know Sam Evans better, the more and more she felt he was absolutely the one for her.

_xxxxx_

In Lynchburg, Thomas rented two hotel rooms for the women and children; the men slept outside in a grove of trees near the hotel. At the door of the hotel, Sam stood with Quinn, holding her hands in his, not wanting to leave her as he had become quite accustomed to sleeping near her during their travel from Richmond to Lynchburg, 15 days worth of travel.

"I'll think of you tonight, Quinn. Will you think of me?" he asked her.

"I will, Samuel. I'll miss you," she said quietly. "I'm anxious to return home and plan our wedding."

"As am I. We'll need to choose a date," he said, smiling. "I shall think about that tonight…"

She smiled and kissed him quickly. "I will too! G'night, my darling."

"G'night, dear…" He kissed her once more and watched her enter the hotel. He then walked to their nearby camp.

"You'll miss your purty lass this eve, will you not Mr. Evans?" Thomas asked of him.

"I will, sir," Sam answered, lying down on his sleep pallet.

"How has your travel been thus far? Any disagreements with Quinny?" her father asked.

"None whatsoever, sir. She is a very agreeable young lady," Sam said, smiling. The twins snickered.

"Shush Thomas! You as well John! Your eldest sister _is _a very agreeable young lady. Mr. Evans will soon be your brother; I suggest you control your snickering from now on," Thomas admonished.

Peyton was sleeping next to Sam that night.

"So, you asked for Quinny's hand, eh?" he asked Sam quietly. "And she answered in the affirmative?"

"She did. I'm very happy," Sam said, smiling some more.

"I'm happy for you, too, Sam. I always had a feeling about you and Quinny," Peyton said.

"I'm thankful to have earned her friendship since being back in Virginia," Sam told him.

"Where were you before Virginia?"

"Uh, Kentucky…"

"Kentucky, eh? What was there in Kentucky?" Peyton asked.

"My late wife and her family," Sam answered quietly.

"Oh, Sam, I didn't know. Please accept my sympathy for your loss," Peyton said.

"Thank you, Peyton."

They were silent for some time.

"Were you married for long?" Peyton asked after a bit.

"Only 2 months before she died," Sam said.

"What was Kentucky like?"

"Heavily forested…it was southern Kentucky…"

"I see…" Peyton could think of nothing else to say to Sam and soon was snoring.

Sam lay there with his memories, looking at the stars, and then let his thoughts drift to Quinn.

_xxxxx_

While in Lynchburg, Thomas checked the general store to pick up any orders and they headed out for Bedford. Quinn talked to Sam a lot about her schooling as he drove the wagon and read to him from her new book.

"Where we live when we marry?" she asked him after a period of silence.

"I guess in the little cabin until I buy some land," he said.

"Are you going to continue your carpentry work or farm?"

"Maybe both…"

They talked about David and Anne Harter and wondered how they were. The last letter they had received from Anne stated they were traveling north to Ohio, possibly the new state of Indiana because of the abundance of farmland available. They had followed the Kanawha Trace northward from Virginia to the eastern edge of Ohio and were making their way west across Ohio. Anne described the city of Charlestown as being even grander than Richmond. She had written from Franklin, Ohio.

"I wonder what it's like, another state," Quinn said.

"North Carolina is a lot like Virginia; Kentucky was a forest. The traces were barely wide enough for a wagon," Sam told her.

"What was it like, living in the wilderness?" she asked him.

"Sometimes lonely, sometimes terrifying," he chuckled a bit. "The trees were so thick I could never see the stars at night."

"Oh…" she said, trying to picture what that was like. "Were you happy there?"

He was silent a moment. "Yeah, I was…"

Just then, a small voice from the wagon called her name. She crawled into the back with Joseph.

"Are you okay, brother?" she asked him, lying down next to him.

"I'm lonely…and tired…" he said. She looked at him in the dimness of the wagon. He looked pale and exhausted. She wondered then if he was completely healed from his illness.

"Shall I have papa find a doctor for you in Bedford?"

"Oh no sister! I just need to rest," he told her, smiling a little. "Was Sam talking about Kentucky?"

"Mhmm…" she answered.

"The picture of the lady he has is pretty…" Joseph said quietly.

"I'm sure she was…" Quinn replied, wondering if that was a picture of Sam's late wife.

"You'll be happy with Sam…he loves you so much, I can tell," Joseph told her.

She smiled. "Thank you, brother. He has truly been a blessing in my life."

"When I am old enough to court a lady, I'm going to do what Sam does," he said.

"Then you shall win her heart with ease," Quinn said, ruffling his hair.

The gentle rumble of the wagon eventually put her and Joseph asleep.

_xxxxx_

In Bedford, it was sunset when they arrived in the town. They made camp just outside town in a field. Unfortunately, this was near a tavern full of rowdy men. Eventually, they spilled out onto the street in a drunken fight.

"Stay in the wagon with Joseph," Sam told Quinn. He went with Peyton and the twins to assess the situation. Kate joined her in the wagon.

"This is so distressing, sister! My stomach is a mess," Kate told her, lying down next to Joseph. "How are you feeling, baby brother?"

"Fine, sister, just tired…" he answered.

Quinn sat at the rear of the wagon, listening to the drunken men yell at one another in the street. She hoped Sam didn't get involved in anything happening.

Peyton and the twins had come and got him to go see what was happening at the rowdy tavern. He really didn't like the idea of leaving Quinn but felt she'd be safe enough in the wagon with Joseph.

As they approached the tavern, a group of men spilled out through the swinging doors, falling over one another into the street, yelling and cursing. One particular tall man stood out to Sam right away. Sam grabbed him by the collar and pulled him away from fighting with the other men. It was Finn Hudson.

As soon as he pulled him away, Finn swung at Sam. Sam ducked and grabbed two fistfuls of Finn's shirt to stop him. Finn reeked of moonshine and could barely stand up.

"Let me loose sir!" Finn slurred his words. "I need to kick that gentleman's ass!"

Sam motioned for Peyton to help him, and with his help and the twins' help, they managed to part walk/part drag Finn Hudson back to their camp.

Quinn and Kate heard the commotion outside the wagon and poked their heads out to see what was going on. Quinn could not have been more shocked than she was to see Finn Hudson. Kate grabbed her arm, muttering _sister_. Peyton told Martha her brother was there, though drunk as a skunk. She refused to see him, staying instead with Thomas and Miranda Fabray in their wagon.

Quinn sat back inside the wagon. "He is such a fool," she muttered.

Outside, Sam and Peyton and the twins managed to sit Finn down. He immediately began rocking back and forth.

"Why were you fighting?" Thomas Junior asked him.

"They called me a cad…for deserting Beth and the child," he said loudly.

"Why did you? Do you know how desperate your sister and your family has been to find you?" Peyton asked.

Finn looked up at him hazily and then put his head in his hands and moaned _I don't know_.

They all sat there in silence for some time. Twice, Finn stumbled off to the tree line and vomited. When he returned after the second bout of emesis, he looked at Sam.

"Aren't you Miss Quinn's suitor?" he asked, swaying on the log on which he sat.

"I am; she is my betrothed now," Sam answered.

Finn chuckled. "So you are to marry her…then congratulations, my friend."

Sam nodded.

"I miss my wife. I have not yet seen my child," Finn mumbled.

"You have a son," Peyton told him flatly.

"A son?" Finn said quietly. "A son…"

They all sat there quietly again.

"Can I speak with you privately, Sam?" Finn asked him. Sam sat up straight, shocked. He had almost been asleep.

"Uh, sure," Sam said and stood up.

They walked away from the camp a short ways. Sam was somewhat uncomfortable with Finn, especially after what had transpired at Peyton and Martha's wedding.

"I really wanna see my wife and chi- my son…" Finn mumbled. "I think I need a lady's point of view on what I should do or say to Beth."

"How can I help you then?" Sam asked, suddenly knowing what Finn was going to ask him.

"May I speak with Miss Quinn? I've always trusted her judgment and considered her a friend," Finn asked, stopping and facing Sam.

Sam held his breath and considered what he should do. He trusted Quinn but did not feel Finn deserved any time with her. But, then again, he was a friend of Quinn's and she should decide whether or not to grant him her time. He decided to see just how desperately Finn wanted to speak to Quinn.

"I really don't think that's a very good idea," Sam said.

"Please, Sam, I beg of you…please, let me talk to her. I made a mistake walking away from my wife and I need to know what to do to get her back," Finn begged.

"I will give you a piece of advice…" Sam said and paused. "I never walked away from my first wife…until I buried her." He watched Finn cringe.

"I'm sorry…" Finn mumbled.

"Follow me…" Sam said and walked toward his wagon.

_xxxxx_

"At least it has quieted down…I feared all that noise would bother poor brother," Kate said to Quinn.

Quinn looked at their sleeping young brother. "I wish he'd just turn the corner." She brushed the bangs away from his face. The family was all aware that Joseph was not fully healed since his illness in Richmond.

The tarp at the back of the wagon was pulled back and Sam was there, looking at Quinn.

"Can I speak to you for a moment, Quinn?" he asked her.

She scooted toward the end of the wagon. "Yes, Sam?"

He leaned in close to her. "Finn Hudson wishes to speak with you."

Her eyes opened wide. "No, Sam. I do not wish to speak with him."

Sam took her hand. "He wishes to make amends with his wife and to meet his son. He requested to speak with you as he called you a 'friend'."

"And you approved this?" she asked. Sam nodded.

She sighed. "I'll speak with him but _only_ with you present."

Sam had hoped she'd suggest that. Not only did she suggest it, she _ordered_ it.

"Is he still in his cups?" she asked, crawling out of the back of the wagon.

"Not as bad…" He led her to where Finn was waiting.

She stopped, facing Finn, feeling Sam's hand on her back. "Mr. Hudson," she said stiffly, curtsying quickly. Finn looked at Sam and then back to Quinn.

"I hear congratulations are in order," Finn began.

"Thank you. How may I help you? I need to return to my brother; he's ill," she said quietly.

"I apologize for any distress I might've caused you in the past. I hoped to receive your advice on how I should approach my estranged wife and new son," he said, dropping his head in shame.

"Um, Finn, I really have no idea how to help your relationship with Elizabeth. Maybe you should apologize to her. Maybe you should stop the drink. Maybe you should have gainful employment. Maybe you should bathe. You need to make an effort if you want her back in your life."

She knew her words were blunt and would probably sting but if no one was going to tell him the truth she figured she may as well. The least she could do was be honest with him.

"Thank you, Miss Quinn," he said finally, bowing his head slightly. "Your words mean a lot to me and I shall heed your advice." He shook Sam's hand. "I wish you both a long prosperous life together."

Finn wandered off to where Peyton was still sitting, next to a dying fire, and finally went to say hello to his sister. Sam walked Quinn back to their wagon.

"Thank you, Sam, for not leaving me…I dislike seeing him in this condition. Hopefully, he can make amends with his wife and see his son," she said quietly.

"Everyone should hope to have you as a friend; I am blessed to have you in my life," Sam told her, embracing her. She felt completely safe in his arms, running her hands up his sleeves, feeling his muscles ripple underneath the fabric.

Kate returned to her parents' wagon, and Sam and Quinn got ready for sleep on either side of Joseph. Once Joseph was asleep, Sam slipped over to Quinn's side.

"I'd like to be next to you tonight, if that's okay with you," he whispered.

They were facing one another, holding hands, kissing lightly.

"Before sunup, you'll have to move back," she whispered.

He nodded. "I promise…"

True to his word, when she awoke in the morning, he was on the other side of Joseph. She had the sweetest dreams that night.


	12. Bolster

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 12-Bolster**

**Franklin County, Virginia, August 1817**

"Sam, please, take me for a ride! Just take me away from here…"

Quinn had run out to the workshop to find Sam. He looked up to find her face tear-stained, red. She was wearing her blue work dress and had her hair tied back under a handkerchief. She was still crying, clearly upset.

"Quinn? What happened?" He stopped working on the table he was piecing together and went to her.

It was late August. They had been back from their Richmond trip for a couple weeks and were keeping busy with work, work, and more work.

He held her upper arms to try to calm her.

"Please? Can we take Clyde? Take me far away…" she sobbed, falling into his chest.

He took her hand and led her away from the workshop to the stables. He led Clyde out of his stall and started to get his saddle.

"No…let's just go…" she mumbled.

He stared at her and removed the apron he had on. He calmed his horse down and then laced his hands together to help Quinn up onto the horse. Not only was she was riding bareback but she also straddled the stallion. He then took a jogging leap and straddled the horse behind her.

"Hold on…" he said behind her, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist, leaning her forward, gripping the horse's mane. He kicked his heels into the flanks of the horse and Clyde galloped away from the Fabray residence.

Sam directed him to the meadow, then across the meadow to the tree line, and slowed the massive creature down. He trotted a bit before stopping to nibble at the grass.

"Quinn?" Sam asked from behind her. She suddenly spun around until she was facing him, her legs hanging off the side of the horse. She threw her hands around his neck, crying again.

"Sam…it's papa…"

"What happened?" Sam said, suddenly worried.

"He said…he said…we can't get married…until after the first of the year!" she moaned.

Sam cringed inwardly. He had forgotten to tell her that.

"I was inside helping mama with mending and we were talking about weddings and such and I mentioned an upcoming date and he told me only after the first of the year!"

Sam wrapped his arms around her, running his hands up and down her back.

"I promise you, Quinn, as soon as we can marry after the new year, we shall, I promise you that…"

He pushed her from him and pressed his lips against hers. They moved their lips together as they had in the past but then he turned his head a bit and opened his mouth slightly against hers, touching her lips with his tongue. He felt her stiffen, as if surprised, but then she opened her mouth too and met his tongue hesitantly. The kiss deepened and became more passionate, her hands wrapped around his neck, pushing him into her, she moaned, he moved one hand down to her hip and the other hand to her knees and pulled her closer to him, draping her legs over his knee. Then he moaned feeling the weight of her legs on his.

When she felt his tongue pushing against her lips, she wasn't sure what to do. The feeling was spine-tingling to her so she did what felt natural and that was to reciprocate the kiss and use her tongue too. It had never occurred to her to touch him with her tongue while kissing him; her lips had always been closed tightly.

He had never kissed anyone like that before, not even his first wife. He, of course, had heard about men doing that to women and thought maybe she would be ready to try it that day. The feeling was very intimate to him so he pulled her closer, wanting her to feel his hard manhood rubbing against her thigh. In doing so, her breasts were pressed against his chest; he could feel her chest heaving against his.

When he pulled her closer to him, she pressed herself against him. Soon, she could feel his stiffness pushing against her thigh. She dropped her hand down slowly, trailing down his body, until she reached his cock. She rubbed it up and down like he had taught her before. She felt his hand move between them and he undid the hook-and-eye at his waistband. He put his head on her shoulder, kissing at her neck.

"Do you wanna touch it?" he asked next to her ear. She nodded in response.

He took her hand and slowly moved it to his member. The first thing she noticed was it was _hot_, heat was radiating off him. And it was long. And it was rigid. Her hand fit around him, but she didn't know what to do. His hand was still on hers and he began moving it slowly.

He was still resting his head on her shoulder, really too embarrassed to look her in the eye with her hand on his penis.

"Up and down," he whispered to her. She did as he said and he moved his hand to the small of her back, pressing her even closer to him. His other hand was on her knee that was draped over his leg. She felt that hand find its way under the hem of her dress, landing on her bare knee, and then to her bare thigh, stopping when his thumb met the soft area where her thigh met her body, squeezing in rhythm with what her hand was doing to him, his thumb touching her hair there.

"Sam?" she whispered against his neck.

"Yeah?" His breath was hot on her neck, his lips kissing her there every once in awhile.

"What's going to happen?"

"Uh…um…_it_ happens…" he said, obviously labored. "Do you wanna stop?"

"No, no…"

She kept pumping him, feeling wetness on her palm, making him moan. She glanced down between them a couple times to see _what_ he looked like but only saw the tip of his organ, reddened and swollen.

His breathing was mixed with his moans and kisses on her neck, his hands gripping her. He was pushing his hips at her hand, increasing the friction as much as he could.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Am I doing this right?" she asked quickly.

"God yes…kiss me…" He moved away from her neck and pressed his mouth against hers, using their tongues furiously on one another.

He stopped kissing her but spoke against her mouth.

"It's…it's…" He shuddered then, his mouth open against hers but not even a breath coming out, his lips trembling. He finally swallowed hard and kissed her again.

When he spoke, she waited for more words but then her hand was covered in hot fluid pouring from him. She glanced down again and saw it was thick and white, spilling over onto her hand from the hole at his tip. She was still stroking him and he put his hand over hers to stop her. He slid his hand out from under her dress.

"I'm…I'm so sorry, Quinn…" he whispered, still holding her wet hand in his. He used his shirttail to wipe their hands off. She felt him put himself back in his pants and re-do the hook-and-eye. "We shouldn't have…"

"Sam…I _wanted_ to…" She held his face in her hands and finally looked at him, forcing him to look at her. "I wanted to share that with you…" She kissed him softly.

"We're not married; it's not right to be _so close _and not be married," he said, looking down again.

"But we _are _getting married, Sam! You made me a promise and I trust you…even though my father is being an absolute ass!" she spouted.

He laughed. "Don't let him know that…he just wanted us to wait a year from when we began courting. I'm sorry…I should've told you…it slipped my mind."

She smiled back. "Well, I do feel better after taking this ride. I have a question, Sam…"

"Yep?"

"Does something like that happen for a girl?" She cast her eyes downward and then back up at him. He blushed.

"I…I don't know, Quinn…uh…"

"Oh." She mulled this over. "Does it feel good?"

"Turn around and we'll head back…" He helped her slide around facing frontward on his horse and wrapped an arm around her waist and gently goaded Clyde into loping across the meadow.

From behind her, he whispered, "It's incredible Quinn…" He kissed the back of her neck softly. She leaned back into him.

"I love it when you kiss me there, Sam…" she mumbled.

The entire ride back to the house he kissed her about the neck and shoulder.

_xxxxx_

When they returned to the house, Sam stabled his horse and returned to the workshop, basically in a stupor from what just happened. Quinn went inside and returned to her mending, as if nothing had happened.

Without looking up from her own mending, her mother said, "Quinny? Where were you?"

"Away..." Quinn answered. She knew better than to be defiant to her mother but her anger was returning.

"You are forbidden to be with Mr. Evans alone. Your reputation will be compromised!" her mother said sternly.

Quinn dropped her mending in her lap. "Compromised? Kate was alone with Mr. Martin, yet her reputation was not compromised...in fact, she'll be married before me!"

Kate had been silent through the entire exchange and just concentrated on knitting the baby gown.

"This is true, and she realizes her actions have been a disgrace and a disappointment to our family. You, on the other hand, have the opportunity to keep your reputation intact."

Quinn sat there jabbing her needles into another blasted sock.

"Why are these socks always ruined?" she suddenly spouted, dropping it from her lap and running to her bedroom.

Eventually, her mother made her way to her room and sat next to her on the side of her bed.

"Quinny, I realize you are in love with him and he with you but your father expressed his wishes. You also have to realize the position your father is in, with Catherine's situation and upcoming wedding. Your father did break his own rule of wanting you to be 18 before marriage; I don't think it's too much to ask of you to wait until the first of the year to marry Mr. Evans," her mother said quietly, gently touching Quinn's hair.

"We just want to be together, mother," she mumbled into the pillow.

Her mother chuckled. "Oh, I know very well how you feel, child. I was there once myself many years ago. I put myself in the same fool position Catherine did, to force marriage. That pregnancy was not to be, however," she told Quinn.

Quinn sat up, staring at her mother. "You were with child when you married papa?"

Her mother nodded. "I was very young and that's all I wanted, was to be with him. We wanted better for our children, though, Quinny, that is why papa tried to enforce his '18 years old' rule. He's learning that he can't stop you from loving a man, it's going to happen when it happens. He wants the best for you and Kate, for you to be well taken care of."

"Hasn't Sam proven that, though?" Quinn asked, wiping away tears.

"Sam...when Sam told us about his late wife we could see he was still grieving deeply over her and though he thought he was ready to move on with you, he wasn't. Does he seem to still be grieving over her?"

"He doesn't seem to be..."

"Maybe your father will budge then but I sincerely doubt it. I'm sorry, Quinny. January will be here before you know it, though," her mother said, laying her hand on Quinn's.

"I'm trying to understand, ma, but it's difficult," Quinn said quietly.

"I know how you feel, Quinn; I've been there. You'll survive these next few months to be his bride," her mother said, standing.

Quinn forced a smile and lay back down.

_xxxxx_

Sam skipped supper that night, still not ready to face Quinn. He sat on his front porch, smoking his pipe, thinking. He felt that things had gone too far that afternoon, on his horse no less, things that shouldn't happen until after marriage, if even then. The problem was when he was with her, his feelings for her flooded him and it was like he had no self-control whatsoever. _Should I avoid her until we wed?_ he pondered. _Is that even possible?_ He saw a figure approaching his cabin, carrying a basket.

"I brought your supper," she said to him. "May we sit and talk for a bit?"

He stood up and moved to the step to allow her the rocking chair. He wasn't sure what to say to her. It wasn't often that Miranda Fabray came calling.

"You were missed at the supper table this evening...I'm sure you know by whom," she began after he had eaten a few bites.

"I missed her, too," he mumbled.

She let him eat a few more bites. "Sam, may I ask you a question?" She paused. "How do you feel about Quinny?"

He was quiet as he thought about her question. _I feel like I want to hold her in my arms forever, feel her breath on my skin, hear her voice in my ear, gaze into her eyes until the end of time...I want to make love to her until we're both so exhausted we collapse against one another, touch her in only places I'm allowed to know, I want to make her pregnant with my child...I feel like I'd die if she wasn't in my life_...he thought.

"I care for her very deeply," he said finally. "I consider her my friend, my equal..."

"Do you feel the same about Quinn as you did your late wife?"

"That's an unfair question, Missus Fabray; it's a different kind of love, a different time..." He paused and then said quietly, "Did you know Quinn was my first love? When I was 8..."

Miranda was silent, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I met Quinn and Peyton in the forest then; she was the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen and an innocent love grew that summer. I loved Liz like a friend; it was easy with her. I knew the other part would come along sooner or later, the _passionate_ love would grow, but there wasn't time. That's what I feel with Quinn...I agree with Mr. Fabray asking us to wait until after a year of courting but I don't necessarily like it. I fear I'll lose her..."

"Because you lost your first wife so soon after you wed? I'll tell you what I told Quinny, trust in your bond with her. She'll be there in January and with you the rest of your life. I am very sorry you lost your young wife and have had to deal with the resultant grief. Has Quinn helped you? I feel your late wife led you to her," Miranda said quietly.

"Her friendship has been very dear to me these past few months," he replied.

"Then I hope you'll be joining us for supper from now on. There are plans for your wedding to be discussed. And, Quinny looked like a forlorn kitten tonight with you not there," her mother told him. She stood up as did he. He placed his dish back in her basket.

"Please pass a message to Quinn for me...that I apologize for not being at supper tonight and that I miss her too," he said.

"I shall, son," she said, placing her hand on his arm.

"Thank you, Missus Fabray...for everything..." he said quietly, watching her walk briskly back to the house.

_xxxxx_

In his cabin later, he opened his journal, marking the date firstly: August 25, 1817.

_T'day, I am 21 years. I spent some time with Quinn t'day but only becuase she was upset. Our wedding will not be until the year 1818. I'd give anything to move that date f'ward. We grow closer and closer e'vry day, it seems. Ms. Fabray spoke with me t'night very forthright abt Quinn; she makes me feel like her son. Tmrw marks a year since Liz died. I think Liz led me here, to meet the Fabrays, back to Quinn._

He lay down on his bed and thought about his conversation with Miranda Fabray.

_xxxxx_

The next day, Sam woke up to a storm. He drug himself out of bed in the dark and dressed for the day. In his journal, he wrote the date _August 26, 1817 _and left it at that. He didn't know what to write. His wife had died a year ago that day. The night before he had had nightmares again of her dying so his sleep had been broken and restless. It was to the point where he was afraid to close his eyes and relive it all again. He must've drifted off because a crash of thunder and searing lightning awoke him. He decided to go ahead and get to work for the day.

A couple hours later, in the dim workshop due to the stormy day, the door opened and Quinn blew in, carrying a lunch pail.

"I brought you something to eat," she said quietly, still standing at the door.

He looked up from the chair he was working on.

"Thank you, Quinn," he answered. He stood up and brushed wood chips from his apron. "About yesterday..."

"We don't have to discuss it, Sam...it happened and I'm sorry if it bothered you somehow," she said, gripping the pail in her hands. She sat it down quickly on the counter in there and said, "Enjoy your meal." She turned quickly to leave.

"Wait..." he said and caught up with her, grabbing her arm before she was out the door. "We do need to talk..."

She stood there looking up at him, waiting for him to speak.

He cleared his throat. "A year ago today, I lost my wife, Quinn. If nothing else, I need _you_ today..."

She wrapped her arms around him without another word and knew instinctively what she was going to do.

_xxxxx_

The rest of the day he spent working and then saw Quinn again at suppertime, after which they walked down the drive to the gate.

"It's been a stormy day," she remarked. The humidity was high that evening, heat lightning in the distance. "Looks to be a stormy night, as well."

She stood against the fence row, and he moved in behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I'm not sure what I'd do without you, Quinn," he whispered behind her, kissing her lightly. "That first time I saw you...I knew with you to light my nights...somehow, I'd get by..."

"Light your nights, hmmm?" she asked, turning around to face him.

He rested his forehead against hers. "I love you, Quinn Fabray..." he mumbled before kissing her slowly on the mouth.

They stood there kissing until they felt the sprinkles of rain.

"We better go back before it pours..." she said quietly.

"We better..." he agreed, backing away from her but holding her hand.

They walked briskly to the house right before the rain deluge struck. They walked through the house to the back door where he kissed her gently on the cheek and ran off for his cabin.

_xxxxx_

He thought he was dreaming but, no, it was a light rapping on his door. It was again storming heavily outside. _Who in their right mind would be out on a night like this and knocking on my cabin door? _he thought, pulling on his trousers and shirt. He glanced quickly through the window and in the lightning saw a hooded cloaked figure. He pulled open the door quickly and was face to face with Quinn.

"Quinn?" he asked uncertainly. She rushed into the cabin and shut the door quickly. "You can't be here!"

"Are you alone?" she asked.

"Of course I'm alone! I can't be alone with _you_, though!"

She dropped the hood from the cloak and took it off. The lightning flashed again and he saw her hair was damp, her eyes wild, her breathing erratic.

"I snuck out, Sam! I couldn't let you be alone tonight..." she said to him, reaching for his hand.

He pulled his hand back. "Your father will _kill _me if he finds you here, Quinn!"

"Sam, he drank heavily tonight! Mother had to put him to bed. She'll be sitting with him until he sleeps it off. Not even Kate knows I left! I'll sneak back in before sunup...please..." she told him, reaching again for his hand. This time, he didn't let go but pulled her to him.

"Thank you, Quinn. I thought today was going to be difficult but I've made it through..."

"Did I wake you? Were you sleeping?" she asked, resting her head against his chest.

"I was sleeping, though lightly because of this storm."

"Come...let's lay down so you can get some rest..." she said, leading him to his bed.

"Quinn...I can't...it's...it's not right..." He stopped her.

"I didn't want you to be alone, tonight of all nights. I want you to be able to sleep peacefully," she told him, pulling him again. He was unable to resist her.

They lay down on his bed, facing one another, not touching until he reached for her hand.

"May I kiss you goodnight, then?" he asked.

"You may..."

He leaned over to her and kissed her quickly on the lips.

"Goodnight Quinn..."

"Goodnight Sam..."

They lay there watching one another in flashes of lightning and booms of thunder until he realized her eyes were closed and he let his eyes close too.

_xxxxx_

The sun woke him up. She was gone. He sat up and wondered if it had all been a dream; it had to have been. She would've never put her reputation on the line to join him in his cabin, _in his bed_, if it meant her father would force them apart. It seemed so real though, the smell of rain, the other pillow creased where her head had laid, his lips on hers when he kissed her goodnight.

He stood up and walked to the front door to step out on the front porch and do what he usually did first thing in the morning. He noticed a letter on the table, though. He stopped and immediately recognized her handwriting.

_Dearest Samuel,_  
><em>I woke up in your arms this morning. All the rest of the mornings I wake up that's where I want to find myself and forever light your nights.<em>

_With love,_  
><em>Quinn Amelia<em>

He swallowed hard. It hadn't been a dream. She had slept in his arms last night. He remembered waking up at some point, feeling her warm body curled into his, both of them still fully clothed, his arm around her holding her hand. She had stirred when he kissed her cheek. Somehow, she had snuck out of his cabin and back to her house without him waking up.

He walked to the main house to grab something quick for breakfast before working. He stepped into the summer kitchen and found her there, making biscuits. She smiled and put a couple biscuits on a plate for him, standing next to him as he ate them.

"Have I ever told you that you make the best biscuits I've ever ate?" he asked her, smiling.

"No, Sam, you haven't, but thank you very much," she said.

"Meet me for lunch?" he asked. It was somewhat intoxicating to look into her eyes and share a secret together.

"I'll meet you at the workshop and maybe we can have a picnic since the rain has passed?"

"I'll see you then..." he said, quickly pecking her on the cheek and heading outside.

Quinn went back to tending her biscuits and other foods.

"I've never seen two people more in love, I don't think," Kate said, entering the summer kitchen from the house.

"Were you eavesdropping? Spying?" Quinn asked.

"No! I just stepped out here to help you and saw you two speaking so I waited 'til he left," Kate told her.

"It's true, sister..."

"What is true?"

"How I love him..." Quinn said.

"Like I said, it's very obvious," Kate said. "I'll help you finish up so you can come talk to me about my wedding!"

Quinn giggled. "Big plans afoot?"

"Father says it must be a small affair, and James Martin agrees, of course," Kate said.

Upon arriving back from their Richmond trip, James Martin was at the house the next day. He first discreetly handed Sam eight dollars and then took Kate for a ride in his buckboard to talk. Due to her condition, she was now granted time alone with him. He stayed for supper that night and after supper dropped to one knee and proposed to her in front of the entire family. The wedding would be in a month from that date. September 15th was quickly approaching. He took her to his house that evening to announce their wedding and also inform his parents of Kate's condition. His family was quite happy; they wanted more grandchildren.

In the sitting room, Kate told Quinn about the ramshackle cabin she and James Martin would inhabit on his parent's property.

"He's supposed to be fixing it up, at least enough that we'll be able to live there. Peyton is supposed to be assisting him in that venture. We should take a ride out there later and look at it," Kate said.

"After lunch...I'm meeting Samuel for lunch..." Quinn said, smiling.

"Even when you utter his name, you smile!" Kate said, giggling.

"I can't help it, Kate! He makes me so happy..." Quinn said, knitting baby socks for her sister.

"I hope James Martin and I will be as happy as you and Mr. Evans," Kate said. "I just realized something, my name'll be Catherine Martin! And you'll be Quinn Evans!"

Quinn had not considered that fact as of yet. To her, it changed her entire identity. She had always been known as a Fabray, daughter of Thomas and Miranda Fabray, sister to Peyton, Catherine, Thomas Junior, John, and Joseph Fabray. Soon, she'd be the _wife_ of Samuel Evans. She did not know his middle name either or if he even had one. She might even be a _mother _soon, also, of Evans' babies.

"It'll be odd not being a Fabray anymore," Quinn mumbled.

"Oh sister! We'll always be Fabrays; we'll just be wives!" Kate laughed.

"You're correct," Quinn agreed, though not wholeheartedly.

_xxxxx_

"Do you have a middle name?" she asked him over lunch. They were picnicking in the gardens behind the house, sitting on a quilt in the shade.

He nodded. "Byrum...after my great-grandfather...Samuel Byrum Evans. It was his mother's maiden name, I believe," Sam answered easily.

"That's a handsome name, Sam," she said, smiling.

He smiled back. "Thank you, Quinn Amelia."

"Have you been asked to help at the James Martin cabin yet? Kate is taking me to see it after lunch today; she said it is in quite disrepair and that he and Peyton are working to make it inhabitable," Quinn told him.

"No one has asked me to help out; I will if they need me," he said, looking at her. "Was last night real? Did it really happen?"

There was a soft breeze and she looked back at him, sitting cross-legged, his hat off and his hair sweaty and blowing in the breeze, his blue eyes shining in the sunlight.

She nodded. "It was real, Sam. I'd be there every night if I could..."

He looked down, blushing. He knew he shouldn't say what he said next but it spilled out of his mouth anyway. "I'll be waiting tonight."

_xxxxx_

He hitched Clyde up to her buckboard for her and Kate for their trip to see Kate's new home. Before he helped her up into the buckboard, he kissed her on the cheek and whispered _tonight_. His voice in her ear gave her butterflies in her tummy; she had heard Kate and Martha mention this sensation but had never experienced it herself until meeting Sam Evans. She hoped she could sneak out again.

Quinn knew how to get to the Martin farm but from there Kate had to give her directions around the property. They followed a path around the house, behind the barns, to the edge of the woods. And there sat the cabin.

It was only slightly larger than Sam's cabin and in much worse shape. At the present time, James Martin, his father and two of his brothers, and Peyton were on top of it, trying to fix the roof.

"At least they're working on the roof, sister! You don't want rain and snow to invade your living quarters!" Quinn said, hopping out of the wagon.

"Hello boys! It looks really nice!" Kate shouted up to them.

"Give me the grand tour, Kate," Quinn requested, taking her sister's hand.

"The porch is a good size…" Quinn said, stepping up on it. "It'll be nice to sit here in the evenings."

They went inside to a large sitting room with the fireplace. The other side of the cabin was a bedroom. There was loft space also. There was a table to eat at, a smaller table to work at, four chairs, a rocking chair, a wooden-framed bed, and a dresser.

"Well, Kate, it's very spacious! There's room for a cradle, lots of room in the loft, and plenty of space in the sitting room. You even have a rear door!" Quinn exclaimed. "I do notice something that's missing…curtains! I shall make curtains for your wedding gift!"

Quinn counted the windows in the cabin (four) and mentally measured one (they were all the same size). "At home, you can choose the fabrics you want."

Back on the porch, Quinn sat on the step. "Is there a creek or river nearby? For water?"

"There is a creek running through the property but James Martin also set up a rain barrel out back…" Kate said, sitting down next to Quinn. "I'll be so lonely here. What if the baby comes and we can't get Granny Palmer or mama or you or what if I'm here alone while James Martin is off fetching them? I have no idea what to expect, what to do…"

"You've been to all those birthings! You know it's painful but also joyful. Maybe as your time draws near, mama can come stay with you? Or maybe you can stay at your in-law's house? I'll come stay with you if I'm able. You'll do just fine, Kate!"

"Thank you, sister. It makes me somewhat nervous, though." Kate sighed.

Quinn grabbed her arm. "You know what we should start doing? Moving your belongings here! Like your cold weather clothes! Is mama giving you any kitchen implements? What about bedding for your new bed? We need to work on that, too!"

"Yes, I'd appreciate your help, Quinn," Kate said, not quite as excited as her sister. Quinn recognized the sadness she had witnessed with Martha right before her wedding.

"Are you sad, Kate? About leaving home?" Quinn asked her quietly.

Kate looked at her. "I don't think it's going to be as easy as I had anticipated."

Quinn wasn't sure what to say. "Soon you'll have your baby to keep you company!" was the best she could come up with. "You're kind of close to Peyton and Martha. And what about James Martin's sisters?"

"His sisters are all younger than me by years…" Kate mumbled.

"Let's go back home, okay?" Quinn said, standing up, wrapping her arm around her little sister's shoulders on their way to the buckboard. They waved goodbye to the men on top of the cabin and headed home.

_xxxxx_

At the Fabray residence, Kate chose large scraps of fabric for her four curtains. Quinn worked on them the rest of the day and managed to get two of them done.

"We'll take these tomorrow when we go…have you chosen things to take over yet?" Quinn asked Kate.

"No, not yet. Come help me…" They left the sitting room and went to their shared bedroom.

"Only a couple more weeks of sharing a bedroom, sister," Kate said, hugging Quinn. Quinn felt a twinge of guilt, thinking of how she snuck out the night before and planned on doing so again.

"Yes, only a couple more weeks of sharing a room, but we'll forever be sisters," Quinn said, tearing up a bit.

_xxxxx_

That night, once Quinn heard her sister snoring, she quietly tucked her extra pillows under her blankets, threw a shawl over her shoulders, and tiptoed downstairs, avoiding all the creaky floorboards. Outside the house, she lit her lantern once she checked Patsy's cabin and saw no light emanating from it. She stole away to Sam's quarters.

She tapped three times on his door, and he opened the door quickly, grabbing her hand and pulling her in. He shut the door and put the lock down, which he rarely did, and pulled her into an embrace and a kiss. He walked her backward until she bumped into the table, letting him push up against her, her hands on his hips just above the waistband of his trousers. They kept kissing until he pushed away from her.

"If you're staying tonight, we need to stop doing this…" he said quietly.

"I know, Sam…" she whispered, straightening her dress. "I know…"

He took her hand that night and led her to his bed. They took off their shoes and climbed in like they had the night before facing one another, not saying anything.

"Can you open a window? It's warm out tonight…" she asked him.

He opened the bedroom window and lay back down, reaching for her hand.

"I can tell you about my day…" she said.

"I'd love to hear about your day…"

"Kate took me to her cabin, the one she'll move to with James Martin after they wed. They were fixing the roof. It was a nice cabin. She was sad, though, feeling lonely already," Quinn told him. "We returned home and I got two curtains done for her. She needs four. She's never been the best seamstress and she's busy with making baby clothing now. So, I offered to make her curtains as a wedding gift. I think I'll stitch her a nice tablecloth also. I'll have to drive to Rocky Mount, though, for that fabric."

"I'll take you to Rocky Mount, if you'd like," he offered.

She smiled in the dark. "I'd like that, Sam."

She leaned in close to him and kissed him quickly on the lips.

"I love you Quinn…the note you left me today was probably the most…_intimate_ thing I've ever read…" he whispered.

"It was all true…it's how I feel…here…" she brought his hand up to her chest, over her heart. He could feel her heartbeat and bit his lip. "I love you, too, Sam."

"G'night Quinn," he said, pulling her closer.

"G'night Sam," she mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder. His cheek brushed her hair. He wrapped his arm around her and fell asleep.

_xxxxx_

Again, he woke up alone. He ran his hand over where she had lain; the bed was still warm, though, from where she had been laying, curled up next to him. As much as he loved sleeping next to her, he hated waking up alone. He found a simple note later when he arose:

_I miss being next to you, sleeping when you sleep, dreaming when you dream. Until tonight…_

She walked quickly back to the house on that foggy morning and about had a heart attack when slipping through the kitchen when Patsy's voice broke the wonderful silence.

"Whar yew been, chile?" she asked, standing with her hands planted on her ample hips.

"Patsy!" Quinn nearly screamed. "You about scared the life out of me!"

"Why yew up at dis hour o' da day?"

"Why are _you _up at this hour?" Quinn countered.

"Your pa is goin' t'town early…somethin' 'bout Miss Cath'rine's weddin'…now 'bout yew?"

Quinn thought quickly. "The outhouse. Kate asked me to not use the chamber pots in our room due to her sensitive stomach."

Patsy stared at her for a moment, then seemed to buy the story. "Well, don' wake Miss Cath'rine, bein' in her delicate state 'n all."

Quinn rolled her eyes as she walked away. "I'll be as quiet as a mouse, Patsy."

Later that day, Quinn asked Sam to walk with her after supper. She told him about being caught by Patsy early in the still-dark morning hours.

"That's a close call, Quinn. It might be best if we stop that practice," he said quietly, really not wanting to stop it. His sleep had been infinitely better the past two nights.

She looked at him sadly. "Then we shall. I'll miss you, though…"

"And I'll miss you, too," he replied.

That night, they slept in their separate quarters. Sam lay awake, tossing and turning most of the night, as did Quinn, even prompting Kate to tell her to calm down and go to sleep at one point.

Sam drove Quinn to Rocky Mount the next day. At first, they did not discuss how they slept the night before. At the general store, Quinn chose a white damask piece of fabric with cutouts already placed. She would just have to add the embroidery to it. She figured it'd take a number of days and she'd have to find somewhere to secretly stitch it. She asked Sam if she could work on it in his cabin while he worked in the workshop so there'd be no inappropriate situations arise. He agreed.

On their way back to the farm, he brought up their recent sleeping arrangements.

"My sleep was hell last night, Quinn. How did you sleep?" he asked.

"Poorly, very poorly," she answered.

He slowed the buckboard down. "We need to make a decision, then…"

She turned in her seat to face him.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I like it when you sleep with me. Those two nights my sleep was the best it has been since…since Liz died, if you must know. But, I think we need something between us…"

"Such as a pillow?" she asked. Her distant relatives from the northern states had brought tales of 'bundling' or 'bed-courting', so she was well aware of bolsters, or large pillows, made for keeping the courting couple separate.

"Yes, a pillow…" He turned the buggy around and returned to the general store where he bought her the materials to make a bolster for them.

On their second return trip to the farm, she told him even if she worked on the bolster the rest of the day and night, she doubted she could finish it in time for that evening.

"Now that I know you're making us that and that you'll be back with me soon, I'll get by…" he told her.

"Then I will too," she said, smiling.

She worked on the bolster that day and late into the night. She finished it when the moon was at its highest point in the sky. She knew where the moon was because she was running to his cabin with the finished bolster.

In a way, he wasn't surprised when he heard her knock.

"It's not my best work since I was stitching swiftly but it'll serve its purpose," she said, smiling again.

She knew she only had a few hours to sleep there, so they kissed one another goodnight, lay down, put the bolster between them, and fell asleep quickly, holding hands over the big pillow.


	13. Letters

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 13-Letters**

**Franklin County, Virginia, September 1817**

After Quinn made the bolster pillow for Sam's bed, it was just a given that she'd sneak out every night. Patsy had caught her once but she used "going to the outhouse" as an excuse and her sister nearly caught her once but she convinced Kate she was sleepwalking.

It was almost like she _needed_ to be with him as they slept. Some nights it was a little more difficult to put the pillow between them but one of them always managed to do so. A late summer heat wave rolled through during the beginning of September so a couple nights Quinn slept in her shift and Sam stripped off his shirt; the bolster was on the bed those nights before they were. The hardest part of this for Sam to deal with was waking up to a pillow and not a cascade of blonde hair on his other pillow. Sometimes she'd leave a note if she had time, usually short notes relating how much she loved him, loved being with him at night. He understood exactly what she meant.

During the days, she would slip out to his cabin to work on the tablecloth embroidery she was doing for her sister's surprise wedding gift. She had finished the curtains, and she and Kate had taken them to Kate's cabin and hung them. Kate told her that they made the place look homey now and maybe she'd be able to tolerate it. They had also brought out some of Kate's belongings, and it was starting to look more habitable. Sam had made a cradle for them and it sat in the bedroom. Miranda had given Kate new bedding so the bed was made up nicely. Granny Palmer had brought over three braided rugs for the puncheon floors.

At the Fabray house, Kate was trying to decide which dress to wear on her wedding day. She was now a little past 3 months pregnant and she and Quinn quickly noticed that whatever dress she chose would need to be taken out through the waist if at all possible. Of all their dresses that they shared, the only one that could be taken out enough was the pale green gown. Quinn took out the stitching along one side and re-stitched it back together giving the waist a couple extra inches; it barely fit Kate. Quinn had to re-do the process and only had enough fabric to expand the waistline one more inch. It fit Kate that day, but Quinn worried if it'd fit on the day of her wedding.

That night on the porch swing, she lamented to Sam, "My hands ache from all the sewing and needlework I've been doing lately. It's all for good, though, so I shouldn't complain."

He held her hands in his and gently massaged them. His hands and fingers usually hurt too after a long day of carving intricate designs into wood, so he empathized with her in a way. That night, when she snuck out to his cabin, he kissed all 10 of her fingers before they fell asleep.

_xxxxx_

The morning of September 15th dawned sunny and warm. The night before Quinn had slept in her bedroom with Kate one final time, reminiscing about their younger years there. They both lay in Quinn's bed.

"Remember the time you caught that tiny mouse and brought it here?" Quinn asked her. They both laughed.

"Ma about had a fit, I remember! He was adorable, though," Kate said, giggling. "I remember you getting caught writing on the wall."

"At least ma and pa weren't angry with me, just bought me my easel!" Quinn said, laughing. "I'll miss you, Kate. I've enjoyed the past 17 years with you."

Kate's lower lip quivered. "I'll miss you too, Quinny! Please promise me you'll be with me when this baby comes…"

Quinn couldn't say no to her teary younger sister. "Of course I'll be there…I wouldn't miss it for anything."

"Ma thinks I got in this predicament to force James Martin to marry me. I most certainly did not. It just happened one day. I didn't know it'd _confine_ me," Kate said quietly. "He says he loves me. He didn't force himself on me that day; it was something we both wanted to happen. I just hope I can be a proper lady for him."

"Of course you will be! You shall become Mrs. James Martin tomorrow and take over your new household as such!" Quinn said, squeezing Kate's hand.

"When shall you come visit me?"

"Within a week surely. I shall visit you weekly, how's that?" Quinn suggested.

Kate squealed. "Perfect sister!"

They finally fell asleep late in the night, quietly giggling and whispering.

In the morning, Quinn and her mother attended to preparing Kate for her smallish wedding. Sam was helping the other boys rearrange furniture and set up extra chairs for the anticipated guests.

Kate tried on the pale green dress and decided to have Quinn pull her corset tighter.

"Are you sure Kate? The baby…"

"The baby will be fine, just pull me tighter please…" Kate said flatly.

Quinn did, wincing at Kate's grunts. The dress barely fit.

Kate sat at her mother's vanity while Quinn threaded green ribbon through her hair and then helped her with some color on her cheeks and eyes and lips.

"You look stunning, sister," Quinn whispered. "The green looks divine on you…your eyes are sparkling."

Kate looked at her as if she was somewhere else. "Thank you, Quinny."

Usually Kate was the bubbly, excitable one but that day she was reserved, quiet.

"Kate? What's troubling you? You're not yourself this morn," Quinn asked her.

She looked at Quinn, frightened. "I guess I'm just nervous about this whole thing, moving away, being the head of the household. Quinn, I don't know the first thing about what to do!"

Quinn knew she was saying those things from the gravity of the ceremony about to take place. She knew her sister could run a household, just obviously was having an issue with self-doubt.

"Kate, I promise you I'll be out to see you in a week and help you however I can…you can do it, sister! I know you can. You know what ma does every day, just set up your work schedule such as her's," Quinn told her.

Kate still looked unsure and sighed. Their mother returned to check on them. She had been greeting the guests arriving.

"Are you ready, Catherine? It's nearly time," Miranda said, examining Kate's dress, hair, and face. "The dress does belie your condition. Your hair and face look radiant. You will make James Martin a fine bride today."

"Thank you, mama," she said quietly.

"I'll go take my place then, Kate. I love you, sister," Quinn said, hugging her quickly.

"I love you too, sister," Kate whispered back.

_xxxxx_

As Sam helped move the furniture around to make room for the wedding ceremony at the Fabray residence, he glimpsed James Martin drinking from Thomas Fabray's bourbon decanter. He looked increasingly more nervous, and more drunk, every time Sam glanced over at him, sitting in a corner of the sitting room. Finally, Sam went over to him.

"So, you excited about today?" Sam asked him, sitting down.

"Uh, nervous..." James Martin responded, taking another hit of the bottle of bourbon.

"You might want to lay off that for awhile so you're not in a stupor during your ceremony," Sam said quietly. "Why you nervous?"

James Martin shrugged his shoulders.

"You love her, right?"

The groom nodded. "Not ready to be a father..." he mumbled.

"Oh...maybe she's not ready to be a mother...but you both got a responsibility now..."

"Yeah, I s'pose so..." James said, putting the bottle down and sighing.

"We need to get some coffee down you or food...c'mon..." Sam said, standing up. James Martin followed suit and wobbled a bit. Sam got him to the kitchen and poured him a cup of strong coffee. He drank the whole cup, screwing up his face at the taste.

"That was disgusting..." James Martin said.

"You need to sober up, boy, your wedding's about to start..." Sam said, pouring him another cup. He slammed that one back, as well. Then promptly ran outside and puked everything up.

Sam waited for him to return and handed him a rag to clean off his face, then baking soda.

"Rub that across your teeth...you're not going to go stand in front of that preacher and your bride smelling like vomit." James Martin cleaned himself up.

"Why do you think you're not ready to be a father? You said you love Miss Kate. You don't want children with her?" Sam asked.

"I do love her and I do want to have children with her...I just didn't expect it to happen so soon," he mumbled.

"Well, those things happen, you know that now...I guess you just need to make the best of it," Sam told him.

"I s'pose so," James said, sighing again. Sam remembered how Quinn had said weddings were happy affairs, but he had a feeling this wedding was going to be solemn.

"You better get back in there...it's supposed to start soon," Sam said.

"Yeah, I need to get in there," James said and wandered off to the sitting room, staggering a bit.

Sam followed him to the sitting room where most of the guests were seated. The only guests present were the Fabrays and the Martins and himself. Quinn was already in place at the altar as was one of James Martin's brothers. Sam stood at the back of the room as he tended to do at these things when he couldn't sit with Quinn. She spied him walking James Martin in and looked from him to James Martin and back to him. He tried to communicate with his eyes about James but it was pretty obvious what state James was in.

Their grandmother started playing the piano and Kate entered the room on the arm of Thomas Fabray. James Martin looked astounded to see her. _Maybe it finally hit him that he's actually marrying her_, Sam thought. He was right about it being a solemn affair. There were no smiles, only mumbled repetition of their vows, a kiss on the cheek, no rings exchanged. After the final prayer, James and Kate turned and exited the room. Sam had never seen two sadder people, he thought as they passed by him. When Quinn passed him, however, smiling at him slightly, all thoughts about the newlyweds flew out of his mind and he focused solely on her.

He was the last person to go through the receiving line, shaking James Martin's hand, who now looked somewhat less nervous. He kissed the hand of his future sister-in-law and shook the brother's hand. And then wound up in front of Quinn. She looked lovely that day, wearing her sister's red dress. He had never seen her in red. He took her hand and held it for a moment before bending to kiss it, keeping his eyes on hers. When he stood up, he leaned in close to her and whispered _we're next _in her ear and kissed her softly on the cheek, letting his lips linger there for a moment. She smiled and closed her eyes as he kissed her.

There was no dancing after this wedding, only brief refreshments, before James and Kate left for their new home. They waited on the front porch for one of the twins to bring James' buckboard around. Kate doled out hugs to her siblings and parents and finally Quinn.

"Thanks for all you've done for me, Quinn," she said, embracing her tightly.

"I'll be over to see you in a week," Quinn whispered.

James Martin helped her up into the buckboard and they were soon driving off toward their cabin on his parent's property.

_xxxxx_

After the requisite cleanup, Sam and Quinn changed into their work clothes for the day and things fell back into routine. Quinn wanted to avoid her bedroom because it seemed so empty. Kate undoubtedly had been her best friend and she hadn't wanted her sister to know how very much she was going to miss her since Kate had seemed so miserable on what was supposed to be a very happy day for her. She finally decided to take a nap there but didn't sleep, just wept quietly.

She asked Sam to go for a walk after supper. He put her shawl over her shoulders since the evenings were getting chilly and they set off down the drive.

"Your sister seemed sad today," he said, breaking the silence.

"I think she was but I'm sure she's over it now." Actually, she had thought about Kate all day and wondered how she was faring at her new home. She wondered if she had found the tablecloth that Quinn had packed in her belongings that went with her that day. On one corner, she had embroidered their names _James and Catherine Martin _and the date they wed.

"We've shared a room since she was an infant; it'll be hard not having her around every day," Quinn said.

"Come stay with me tonight, so you're not alone..." he said, squeezing her hand in his. She stopped and pulled him into an embrace.

"I will..."

_xxxxx_

Much later that evening, she found herself wrapped in his arms, lying in his bed, kissing him slowly and deeply. Their hands were moving all about one another's body when finally she pushed against his chest, pushing him away, and grabbed the bolster from the floor and put it between them.

She stared at him, his lips swollen and red and glistening from their kissing, his hair tousled, his eyes half-lidded. She knew if she touched him _there_, where she had touched him the day they rode his horse to the meadow, things would escalate, hence the bolster now between them.

He sat up. "Quinn, I don't want you to be alone tonight but I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here..."

"We have this..." she said, patting the bolster.

"Some night it's not going to stop us...I don't want your reputation to be compromised any further than it already is," he said quietly.

She sat up also. "I see, Sam." She rested her hand on his arm to get his attention; he looked at her and she kissed him, then got up, grabbed her shawl, and ran back to the main house.

After she left, he lay back down, angry at himself. He had not wanted to send her away but he needed to. It had taken all his self-restraint that night to keep from pulling her to him and taking her then. He thought of the first time it happened with Elizabeth; she had been scared, it had been painful to her, and he didn't want it to be that way with Quinn. He wasn't quite sure what to do that night, his wedding night, with his first wife. He knew it was expected of him but he knew nothing of the female anatomy except for very generic and crude pictures in the medical book at his father's. Of course, he had heard things from other married men and had a very general idea of what to do. And with Elizabeth the closest they had been before marriage was kissing, holding hands, an embrace. That night, as a storm raged overhead, she lay next to him, every muscle tense, until he finally turned to her and kissed her. He moved a hand down her arm, felt the swell of her breast, but she stiffened even more at that touch, so he moved his hand down to her hip and began moving her nightgown up. Her nightgown was atrocious in and of itself, heavy cotton, long-sleeved, high-neckline, even in June. He was still wearing his trousers that night and undid the front of them. He was erect though it had taken some time to get that way. He finally slowly moved over her, still closed-mouth kissing, and he tried to line up their middle sections. He had to push her legs open with his knees because she wasn't going to. As things progressed, she tensed up even more. He could finally feel the warmth from her center against his cock and he moved his hips to her, trying to figure out what to do. They had stopped kissing at this point. He wasn't having any luck with finding where to put his dick, so he finally grabbed himself and poked around at her, finally mumbling _tell me where_ to her because he just didn't know. He pushed a couple more times at different spots and she finally mumbled _there, I think_. From that point on, all he could say was _umm_. He pushed into her roughly on accident, and she cried out in pain. He noticed she was gripping the sheets with both hands and not making a noise, not moving, her legs flat against the bed. It didn't take him long, thankfully; he hated that he had hurt her. He didn't really feel anything like pleasure; it was more of an obligation and the end result was much like if he used his hand on himself. As soon as he'd pulled out and rolled off her, she jumped up and ran to the other room of the cabin, crying. He fixed his trousers and went after her; she was bleeding. He felt horrible and apologized to her over and over. He had to run to the creek to get water for her. The bleeding finally stopped but he felt sick that what he did to her caused that to happen. About a week later, they tried it again at her insistence actually, though she was still anxious about the pain and when there wasn't pain she relaxed somewhat. After that, there was only a handful of other times working around her monthly and him traveling with her father for supplies. Of course, they never expected her to fall ill and die so suddenly. The last time they were intimate, Sam was finally able to enjoy the time with her and she had relaxed enough to enjoy it, as well. Now, when he thought of something of that nature occurring with Quinn, he knew enough from experience to help her through it, he hoped. He didn't want her to be scared and hoped it wouldn't hurt her but was afraid it probably would. He also wasn't sure how to approach such a delicate subject; he guessed it would be best to wait until it was about to happen.

He couldn't sleep so he got up to write in his journal and then write her a letter.

_Sept 15, 1817 I sent Quinn away t'night. I don't want to tarnihs her reputation any furhter. This cabin is not the same w'out her thouhg. I am not the same w'out her._

_xxxxx_

In her bedroom, alone, Quinn stripped down to her shift and crawled into her cold bed, shivering. _This is not right; I should be with him, near him, in his arms_, she thought angrily. She glanced over at Kate's empty bed. _At least it's quiet in here without her incessant snoring!_ She giggled a bit. She wondered if Kate was snoring at that instant in her new home. She wondered what he meant when he said the bolster wouldn't stop them. Stop them from doing what? _Relations?_ Obviously, people did that before marriage, her sister was a testament to that. She wasn't sure she was ready to take that step with him, at least at that time. Being with him, though, made her feel very _wanting_ for something more. She couldn't sleep that night, tossing and turning. She finally got up and sat at her window. There was a lamp on in his cabin. She wondered what he was doing, what he was thinking. She knew he kept a journal; she had seen it there while working on the tablecloth for Kate. She never opened it, though. He either trusted her or forgot to put it away when she'd be there because it was always at his bedside table. The painting she had done of her initials on the oak tree was framed and propped up on the fireplace mantel. She felt at home there, even when he wasn't there. She felt his presence when she was there alone. She got into the habit of bringing fresh towels for his bath and draping them over the tub he kept there. Some days she brought a vase of fresh flowers and left them on his table or next to his bed. She made two curtains for his windows there and brought the painting she did of him working. She propped it up against the wall and when she returned the next time he had hung it. The only thing missing was them being together there, during the day, during meals. At night, it had been wonderful, sleeping in such close proximity to him but now even that was gone. She sighed and went back to her bed. Still not able to sleep, she got up and sat at her desk, writing him a letter.

_Dearest Samuel B,_

_How I miss you this eve. I miss the comfort of hearing you breathe as you sleep and dream, I miss feeling you move next to me, I miss your warmth. How shall I bear this loneliness for another four months? Soon, I will be sleeping next to you, in your arms, for the entire night...but not soon enough. I shall dream of you then while we must be apart and in my dreams we are together, as one, never separated. Knowing you are as close to me now as a stone's throw hurts me deeply, knowing that I cannot run to you and fall into your bed, safe in knowing you are there for me and that I can be there for you. My thoughts are consumed by you, how you look at me, how you touch me, how you kiss me. I wonder if you think similar thoughts of me? I see your lantern from my room; are you awake also, not able to sleep? My bedchamber is so lonely now, so cold. I'll bury myself in my blankets and in my mind you'll be with me there, sharing intimate thoughts and our dreams and our kisses. I long for you Samuel...I long for us to be together..._

_Until we are together again,_  
><em>Quinn Amelia<em>

She wasn't sure if she should give him such a passionate missive or not. She had written from her heart, shared with him some very deep thoughts and feelings. She folded the letter and tucked it away in her desk. She then curled up in her blankets and thought of him until she fell asleep.

_xxxxx_

He had also written her that night, unable to sleep. He also wasn't sure if he should give her his letter. He had put it in his journal, trying to decide whether or not to share those thoughts with her. He didn't have to wait long to make his decision. Thomas came to see him in the workshop the day after Kate's wedding.

"Son, did you sleep at all last night?" Thomas boomed as he entered the workshop. "You appear as if you haven't slept a wink!"

"I had a rough night, sir," Sam mumbled.

"I see...well, I've come to announce our next trip! I wanted to get a trip in before harvest. We're going to go to Roanoke, swing back down to Bedford, over to Lynchburg, and then onto Richmond. I've received word from all stores that they are in need of more inventory! Great news, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Sam said, sullenly.

"I figure we can take three wagons, though we'll be gone for at least a month," Thomas told him. "We're leaving t'morrow morn!"

Sam sighed. He wondered if Quinn knew this yet.

She had found out at breakfast and retreated to her room, crying. _I am such a baby_, she thought, sniffling. _I can spend this time keeping Kate company! _The thought of Sam being gone for more than a month made her heart ache, though. She got up off her bed and went to her desk. She re-read her letter to him and sealed it.

She didn't see Sam until that evening at supper. He had purposefully worked through dinner because if he saw her and saw any hint of sadness it would make leaving that much more difficult. At suppertime, she seemed fine, jovial almost, talking and laughing with her family, asking her father to pick up her lavender fabric in Richmond as she wanted to try to make herself a dress. After the meal, Sam asked if she'd take a walk with him. She had his letter in her apron pocket and felt the edges of it, still internally debating on whether to hand it to him or not. His letter to her was in his shirt pocket.

They started off down the drive, holding hands, silent.

At the gate, they stopped, facing one another.

"I'll miss you, Sam," she said quietly.

"And I'll miss you, Quinn," he replied. "Last night, after you left me, it was awful. I couldn't sleep. Your pa even noticed today."

"I understand, Sam," she said and pulled the letter from her pocket. "I...I wrote you this last evening but please, please, don't read it until you are far away from here...please..."

He looked confused as he took the letter from her. "Is it...is it unhappy news for me?"

"No! No...just...intimate..." She stammered over the words. She could see him blush in the moonlight.

"Oh, I see..." he responded, reaching into his shirt pocket. "This is for you, only to be read after I've been gone for some time."

It was her turn to look confused. "Is this unpleasant news?"

He chuckled, pulling her into a hug. "No...I have a feeling we might've written about the same thing..."

She took his letter and tucked it in her apron pocket. She kissed him, like she had never kissed him before. She felt his lips with her tongue and then he opened his mouth slightly to touch her tongue with his. She moved her lips away from his mouth to his scruffy cheek and down his neck to the collar of his shirt. She then slipped her hand up underneath his shirt onto his bare skin. He jumped a little, not expecting her hand rubbing over his belly and then his chest. She felt light hair in the middle of his chest and then moved her hand over to a nipple and heard him groan. Then, she had a strange idea. If they could use their tongues against one another's why couldn't she put her mouth on his chest and kiss him there? She shoved his shirt up to his chin and moved in toward him. He stopped her.

"Quinn...Quinn...you can't do that! Your pa and ma are on the porch..."

"They can't see us..."

He felt her warm mouth kiss his chest and was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven. Then, her lips trailed over to a nipple and he knew he was going to go to hell or she was or they both were...he didn't know, he couldn't concentrate.

His skin tasted salty to her, sweaty. She noticed as she kissed him over his nipple it became erect, she wasn't sure if it was her or the night air doing that to him. She moved to the other nipple and it sounded like he was holding back moans above her. She began a trail of kisses down the center of his chest to the just above his bellybutton. She could see the bulge in his pants and then he pulled her upright.

As she kissed him down his belly he kept hearing something in the distance that sounded familiar, he just couldn't place it, not while her warm wet mouth was kissing a trail toward his lower region. He heard a horse and then a whip and then realized what it was and he pulled her up quickly.

"Someone's coming," he whispered. She heard the carriage then also, then two voices, a male and a female...Peyton and Martha.

Peyton pulled the buggy into the gate and noticing the couple standing there, he stopped.

"Good evening, young lovers!" he said happily.

Sam and Quinn mumbled _good evening _back to them.

"We're out for a night ride...were you two taking a walk?" Martha asked them.

"Mhmm, yes, a walk," Quinn said to her.

"Well, enjoy your stroll...we're going to the house to say hello to ma and pa," Peyton said, snapping the reins.

"That was close, Quinn," Sam said after the buggy had pulled on down the drive.

"I know...now where were we?"

"Quinn!"

"Hmm?" she mumbled, pushing his shirt upward. He pushed it back down.

"We cannot do these things!"

"Samuel, thou doth protest entirely too much! You'll be gone for more than a month...please..." she said quietly. She began unbuttoning the top buttons of her dress.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"If you don't want to be kissed there, then maybe you can kiss _me_ there?"

He looked at her blankly. She opened the third button and he could see her bare flesh in the moonlight.

"What about Peyt and Martha?" he asked deeply, taking a step closer to her.

"I'll listen for the horses..." He was kissing her on the mouth before she finished her sentence. He hesitantly moved his hand to her breast, squeezing her gently there, taking her nipple between his fingers and pinching lightly. His lips moved from her mouth to her cheek, down her neck to her collarbone. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest with her shallow breathing, small sounds coming from her. Slowly, he lowered his head to her breast, gently kissing her there. When he wrapped his lips around her nipple, her knees nearly gave way. He wasn't sure what to do there so he just got lost in tasting her, feeling her with his tongue. This was all nearly overwhelming to him, so he took her hand and moved it to his penis; he needed the release.

"Your trousers, Sam…" she whispered into his hair.

"Yeah…" he mumbled, unfastening them.

Her hand was suddenly on him, stroking him gently, up and down. He stood up to kiss her.

"Oh…uh…right there…" he mumbled as her hand moved on him.

"Where?"

He reached for her hand and rubbed her thumb along the underside of his shaft at the head. "Right there…" he whispered again.

"Can I…kiss the other side?" he asked quietly.

She nodded, resting her head against his shoulder. He cupped her other breast in his hand; it was the perfect size, full and beautiful in his eyes, the nipple erect. When he kissed her there, she trembled and moaned. With that, coupled with her hand on his member, he couldn't hold out any longer.

"Quinn…Quinn…I….umf…" he muttered, his voice shaky, his body trembling.

The hot fluid spilled over onto her hand as he said her name. Her hand slid up and down him easily then, and he moaned quietly as he kissed her. The whole situation had caused an almost unbearable feeling inside Quinn. The pleasure was almost pain between her legs. All of it combined, his kissing her breasts, her touching him _there_, his reaction, made her want to forget her morals and let him have his way with her, right then, right there. Thankfully, it came to an end for Sam quickly and she could rethink her previous decision. Also, they heard the buggy coming back down the drive. They both looked in the direction of the buggy, then at each other.

"Gimme your hand," he said quickly. He used his shirttail again to clean off her hand and then she buttoned the top of her dress quickly as he fastened his pants. They both faced the fence and leaned over it casually.

"So many stars out tonight, Quinn," he said quietly as the buckboard approached. They both looked to the heavens.

"You two still out here stargazing?" Peyton asked. He didn't wait for an answer. "I'll be over in the morning at sunup!"

They waved at the buggy as it pulled out onto the road.

"Another close call, Sam," she said. He took her hand to walk back.

"I know. I'm very sorry," he replied.

"I'm the one who instigated it…" she argued.

"But I'm the one who should've stopped it," he said. "I think you'll understand better when you read my letter."

"Sam…" She stopped both of them before they reached the house.

"Yeah?"

"While you are away on your trip with papa and Peyton, count the stars at night and I will too, then I'll know we'll both be looking at the same stars…" She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"If you miss me, slip out to my cabin at night and sleep in my bed…" he whispered.

That gave her an idea. "Come inside quickly!"

She pulled him by the hand into the house and had him wait at the base of the stairs for her. She ran up to her room and grabbed a pillow from her bed.

She returned with the pillow and handed it to him. "Take this with you; it's mine."

He lifted it to his face and inhaled. He could smell the faint scent of the perfume she wore on rare special occasions and just _her_ scent.

He mumbled _thank you_.

"I'll try to write from wherever we're at," he said as she walked him to the back door.

"I love you, Sam. I'll miss you horribly," she cried, stretching upward to hug him tightly.

"I love you, Quinn. We'll be back soon. I'll think of you every day and count all the stars…" He kissed her quickly and left for his cabin.

_xxxxx_

In her room, she sat at her desk and took out his letter. There was no way she could wait to read it and she knew he'd read her letter that night also.

_Dearest Quinn Amelia,_

_I sit here alone the night I told you to leeve. I'd give anyhting to have you back here, in my arms, in my bed. I asked you to leeve t'night not because I wanted you gone but because I wanted you to stay. I wanted to make love to you t'night, Quinn, but I strongly feel we shuold wait until we are merried. I want you to feel compleetely safe and reddy for that…you'll know in your heart wen the time's right._

Her heart was pounding as she read his words, his very honest and deep thoughts.

_I love you deeply, Quinn, and wuold never do anyhting to hurt you, please remimber that. I only want to make you happy ev'ry day for the rest of your life. What I feel for you is very diffrent and new to me…sometimes tis fun, sometimes scary, sometimes passionet…at the base of everyhting is my love for you. Ev'ry night til we wed, you'll be heere, in my dreams._

_With all my love,_  
><em>Samuel<em>

_xxxxx_

"I knew you'd come," he said quietly as she stepped lightly up on the porch. He had decided to sit in the rocking chair after reading her letter, expecting her. His voice startled her; she didn't expect him to be sitting outside.

"I couldn't stay away…" she replied. She went to him and curled up on his lap; he wrapped his arm around her. "Let me stay tonight…"

"Did you read my letter?" he whispered. He knew she had.

She nodded. "And you read mine?"

He nodded. "Then you understand why I asked you to go?"

She nodded. "I want to wait until we're married, too."

He kissed her on the cheek. "Let's get some sleep, then."

She stood up and he did too; he took her hand and led her inside his cabin. In his bed, they lay down, face to face, holding hands. He kissed her once and they fell asleep.

**A/N: Sorry for the delay in updating! Real life got in the way! :) So happy to see Chord in the studio and tweeting about being back on Glee's set! My heart is all aflutter. :)**


	14. Travels

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 14-Travels**

**Various locations, Virginia, Mid September to Late October 1817**

Sam woke up alone. They had slept in his bed, fully clothed, no bolster. She allowed him to embrace her as he slept; their bodies pressed close together. She always could slip out of bed undetected and back into the main house. For his trip, he packed his two suits, a couple pair of trousers, a couple shirts, socks, and his journal. He hitched Clyde and another horse to his wagon and tossed in his bag and Quinn's pillow and a couple quilts, then drove to the workshop to begin loading the furniture he and Peyton had been working on. He did all this in the dark.

Quinn's mother woke her up a half-hour before sunup to help put the lunch pails together for the menfolk. Quinn hurriedly dressed in her work clothes and tied her hair back with a handkerchief.

"I knew you'd probably want to see Mr. Evans off," her mother said to her in the kitchen.

"Thank you, mother, I do want to see him off, and of course papa and Peyton too," she laughed.

"I think this short break will be beneficial to you both…you can visit Kate and keep her company and when Samuel returns I'd think it'd be safe to start planning your wedding ceremony," her mother told her.

Quinn squealed and clapped. Her father entered the kitchen.

"Papa! Papa! Please, if you could check Richmond for lavender satin…a light purple…I need approximately 12 yards…is that possible papa?" Quinn asked him, gripping his arm tightly as he moved around the kitchen.

"I'll be sure to check, young lass, for a dress, you say?"

"Yes papa…my wedding gown!" Quinn squealed.

He smiled. "We'll check for you…12 yards lavender satin, correct? What if I can't find satin? Do you prefer lavender of any material?" he asked.

"Certainly papa…and if there is no lavender I'll wear my dark green velvet gown…" she said, pulling on her shawl and picking up the lunch pails. "Have a safe trip, papa, I'll miss you all!"

She ran out the door to the workshop.

"She's topsy-turvy over that boy, isn't she?" he asked Miranda.

"Reminds me of a young lass nearly 20 years ago," Miranda replied, smiling.

Quinn found Sam in his workshop. She sat his lunch pail on the seat of his wagon, set the other two on the floorboard, and walked up to him. His back was to her, but he felt her presence close to him. She laid her hand on his forearm.

"G'morning Quinn," he said quietly, not looking at her.

"Good morning Samuel…" she said. He wouldn't look at her, busying himself with a picture frame. "I brought your lunch…"

"Thank you…this frame needed some work before I load it on the wagon…" he mumbled. He knew if he turned and looked at her, he'd never be able to leave that morning.

Quietly, she said, "Thank you for letting me stay last night…it'll make the next month bearable."

He turned and looked at her finally, tears in his eyes.

"I'll miss you so…" he said, pulling her into a tight embrace. He held her face in his hands and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll miss you so much, Quinn Amelia…" He then kissed her on her lips gently.

She pulled away from him. "I wasn't going to do this today," she said, tears falling down her cheeks. "I wasn't, Sam. I'll miss you too."

He kissed her again and let her go. She grabbed the other two lunch pails and ran off to deposit them in the other wagons.

_xxxxx_

When the men stopped for lunch, Sam opened up his pail and on top of the wrapped up sandwich and apple he found a bundle of tiny notes, tied together with red ribbon. On the top of the stack was a note:

_Read one each day to think of me ~Q_

He decided before bed each night was when he would open a note.

When they stopped again to make camp, they were nearly halfway to Roanoke, making good time. The travel was boring. There was no one to talk to so one was left alone with their thoughts.

The three of them were sitting around the dwindling campfire that first evening when Peyton broke the silence.

"I wish I would've brought Martha…"

Sam looked at him. He wished he could've brought Quinn.

"I might have to find a wench to bed in Ro'noke…I'm used to relations _every night_," he boasted.

Sam thought it was inappropriate for Peyton to speak of his wife that way in the company of other men but who was he to say anything? Thomas Fabray guffawed at Peyton's _every night_ remark.

"You are still newly wed, son, the newness wears off eventually…"

"It's going to be a long month…" Peyton mumbled.

"I miss talking to Quinn," Sam said quietly. "She's smart and we always have interesting conversations."

"I'm happy that you two are compatible in that way, son," Thomas said. "I hope you are compatible in _other_ ways, as well. I want many grandchildren. Peyton is lagging behind his baby sister already."

Peyton snorted. "We try every night, papa!"

Sam just hoped the conversation didn't turn to him again. "I think I'll turn in…" He went to his wagon and retrieved Quinn's pillow and her notes. He lay down on his sleep pallet and pulled the blanket up over himself, laying his head on her pillow, gazing up at the stars.

_I hope she's looking at them too_…he thought, reaching for the bundle of notes.

He took the first one off the stack and opened the folded-over paper. The first thing he noticed was her handwriting, curvy and feminine. He could picture her sitting at a desk, carefully writing these words to him.

_I walked to the gate tonight to look at the stars, thinking of you ~Q_

He re-folded it and put it on the bottom of the stack, retying the ribbon. He looked up at the starry sky and began counting.

_xxxxx_

The first night Sam was gone she walked to the gate after supper, wrapped in her shawl. She stood at the gate like she and Sam had done many times and looked up at the night sky. _Please, please let him be thinking of me_, she thought. She walked back to the house to talk with her mother and Martha, who was staying at the Fabrays while Peyton was on the trip.

In the sitting room, Quinn picked up a tiny quilt she was working on for Kate.

"I wonder how Kate is doing in her new home," Quinn said out loud.

"She's probably a little homesick; I was," Martha said.

"The only good thing about this trip the men are on is you staying here!" Quinn said to Martha.

Martha sighed a little. "I was looking forward to them going on the trip…I needed a break."

"A break? From what?" Quinn asked, completely clueless.

"Your brother is very anxious to start his family, I'll say," Martha said, blushing a bit.

"Oh my…" Quinn said, suddenly regretting asking Martha about it.

"Maybe you girls could go visit Kate tomorrow, take her a loaf of bread," Miranda suggested.

"Do you think her new husband will mind?" Quinn asked.

"I'm sure during the day while he works will be fine," her mother said.

"Okay, we shall," Quinn said, happily. _That will occupy most of my day tomorrow to keep my mind off Sam being gone_, she thought.

She went to bed early that night to hopefully fall asleep and get through the night easily. She dreamed of him; he dreamed of her. It was a long night.

_xxxxx_

The next day, Quinn and Martha set out for Kate's new cabin shortly after breakfast.

"I feel so refreshed, sister," Martha said, cheerfully. "That's the first full night of sleep I've had in _weeks_!"

"I'm glad you slept so well. I was visited in my dreams by Samuel; I wish he were here," Quinn mumbled.

"I know you miss him," Martha reached over and gripped Quinn's arm. "I imagine I'll begin missing Peyton soon."

They both giggled over that admission.

Quinn steered the buggy down the drive next to the Martins' main house to Kate's cabin. Smoke was coming from the chimney and James' buckboard was gone. The girls hopped from their buggy and went quickly to the door, rapping quietly.

Kate opened the door quickly, looking shocked.

"Quinn! Martha! Oh!" she said, hugging them both. "How happy I am to see you both! Come in!"

The ladies entered the cabin and sat at the table. It appeared as if Kate had cleaned every inch of the home at least twice. At present, she was dressed in work clothes and sweaty.

"Your home is spotless, Kate!" Quinn said, jumping up to hug her again. "I've missed you, sister."

"And I've missed you and the family. So far, I haven't been too lonely, only during the day while James is gone."

"How are you getting along?" Martha asked. "It took Peyton and myself awhile to get into a routine that satisfied us both."

"I've been battling illness every morning, I think due to my condition," Kate said. "I have tea if you'd like."

She poured three cups of tea and sat down with Quinn and Martha.

"I miss home," Kate said. "When James gets home, he wants to eat, maybe sit outside a bit, and go to bed. It's so quiet here."

"Do you two speak to one another?" Martha asked.

"I ask him about his day and that's about all. I don't think he wants to know anything about this pregnancy; he never asks. He seems distant. We're only a couple days in, though, so maybe things will change."

They talked about the other Fabray family members and folks in the community. Kate thanked Quinn for the tablecloth; Quinn had noticed it immediately when she entered the cabin.

"It was such a pleasant surprise to find that amongst my belongings from home and I knew instinctively that it was your handiwork," Kate told her.

After a couple hours, Quinn and Martha decided they had better return home so Kate could get back to her chores.

"Do you need any help, sister? You looked exhausted when we got here. We can help you with whatever you need," Quinn implored.

"No, no, I wouldn't dream of asking such a thing! I was mostly done with my morning chores when you arrived," Kate said, genuinely smiling for the first time since her guests had arrived.

"If you're sure..." Martha said.

"When will you return? Soon, I hope!"

"When are you doing your wash? We'll come that day and help you," Quinn suggested.

"Two days from now."

"We'll be here then," Martha replied.

Kate waved at them until they were gone from her view.

"She seems lonely already," Martha said on the ride back to the Fabrays.

"Yes, she does. I hope it gets better for her and James. She said he loves her. Maybe he is still in a state of shock that they're married?" Quinn pondered. "Was Peyton that way?"

"Not really. He was just interested in _relations_...and still is!" Martha said, laughing.

"I guess Kate and James are past that point," Quinn mumbled.

At home, Quinn tried to busy herself with anything to keep her mind from drifting to thinking of Sam. There was plenty of work to be done, but she found even while helping her mother with housework and chores he was invading her thoughts. There was endless food preparation to be done, endless mending and sewing, candle-making, spinning woven material, cooking, cleaning. Quinn was exhausted at the end of the day, choosing to rock on the front porch to finally allow herself to think of Sam.

_xxxxx_

In Roanoke, Thomas collected his monies from the sales of the furniture and unloaded more for them. Sam had time to write a quick note to Quinn to be sent from Roanoke.

_Dearest Quinn,_

_In Ro'noke now, doing well. Goods are seling well. The travel is loenly, isolated. I miss you increbidly. I foudn your notes; I reed one at nihgt before sleep. Your words seem to stave off the lon'l'ness for the night. We leave fore B'ford in the morning._

_All my love,_  
><em>Samuel<em>

They slept outside that evening since the weather had not turned unbearably cold yet. Sam was fine with that; he could watch the stars until he fell asleep. A lot of his time traveling was spent thinking of her, what she was doing, whether she thought of him, what it would be like to be married to her eventually. When they stopped to eat, Thomas and Peyton talked enough for all three of them, so he stayed quiet, listening to them go on and on, occasionally answering or adding his own perspective to whatever the conversation was about.

The night after they left Roanoke, her note to him had read: _Even though I write this in the future, you can be assured I have thought of you often and cried many tears during your absence. I miss you dearly even now, while you sleep in your cabin._

He thought of her writing that, looking at his cabin from her window of a room he had never seen, and sadness washed over him, missing her voice, her touch, just seeing her. Falling asleep that night, tears ran down his face.

_xxxxx_

Quinn and Martha arrived early to Kate's the morning they helped her with her laundry. Kate had a basic idea but had not really worked through the whole process while living at home. Quinn and Martha actually arrived while it was still dark and Kate's new husband was still there.

"We need to start this early...it could take all day, Kate," Quinn told her. "Have you gathered any clothes and linens that need to be washed?"

Kate had thankfully done that so they moved to the bucking bin to pre-soak everything. James found them outside and quickly pecked Kate on the cheek before leaving for work.

"James clothes are quite filthy," Kate said once he had left. He worked as a day laborer at other farms in the area and most times did get stuck doing the dirtiest work on the farm.

"You're really supposed to do this the day before, but I don't think your clothing is that dirty," Martha said.

"We'll bring water from the creek while this is all bucking, Kate," Quinn said. "What's the easiest way?"

Kate pointed out the path, and Quinn and Martha headed off with buckets.

By the time the water was heated, they figured the clothing had soaked long enough so they began the washing process, showing Kate how to heat the lye and reheat the lye over and over until boiling water was washed over the clothes. It was a long drawn-out process, collecting the water as it drained from the tub and reheating it to use again. They used a "dolly" to punch the clothing, or agitate it, in the boiling water. Then, there was the rinsing of the clothing with clear water. Quinn and Martha returned home after dark that day, exhausted.

"For only having a few items to wash, that sure took the day, didn't it?" Martha asked Quinn.

"It did. My arms are weak now," Quinn replied. That night, Quinn collapsed into bed, with just enough energy to turn her thoughts to Sam before sleep took over.

_xxxxx_

Five days after the men had left, Quinn had to travel to Rocky Mount with her mother and Martha for supplies. There was a letter waiting on her from Sam from Roanoke. There were also letters waiting on Miranda and Martha from their respective husbands, all short missives that the women read quickly before entering the small general store there. She was so happy she wrote the little notes and snuck them into his lunch pail before they left. It seemed he was enjoying them. She was so happy to receive his letter she could've read it and re-reading it all day; she memorized it and thought of it often that day. She and Martha poked around the store a bit while Miranda stood at the counter reading from her list. Quinn spotted a small leather-bound book; she picked it up. It was empty, just blank pages. Then, she realized it must be a journal, something like Sam kept.

"Mama! Did papa send any money?" Quinn asked her quietly.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'd like to purchase something for Sam, maybe to give to him when we wed. I'll work for the money, mama," Quinn told her.

"What caught your eye, Quinny?"

"This..." She handed her mother the journal.

"How much is this, Mr. Smith?" Miranda asked the shopkeeper.

"For you, miss, just two dollars!"

Quinn's heart sank. Her mother turned it over and opened it up, realizing what it was.

"Add it to the rest then," she said, flatly. To Quinn, she said, "We'll work out your chores at home."

_xxxxx_

He noticed it out of the corner of his eye...movement. He slowed the wagon and reached for his musket slowly. He aimed and fired. The bird fell limp, a plume of feathers flying up off the bird. Thomas' wagon and Peyton's wagon stopped at the sound of the gunfire. Sam was already to the large bird and walking to Thomas' wagon with it, holding it by its legs.

"A wild turkey! Great job Sam!" Peyton yelled. They had been eating mostly squirrel and rabbit only if they could catch one of those and sometimes fish.

"I'm puttin' him in your wagon, Peyt, for you to dress," Sam said, walking to the back of Peyton's wagon and depositing the bird.

That night, they fried the turkey meat over an open fire and Sam thought he might have the energy to at least make it to Bedford.

_xxxxx_

The men had been gone for a week. Quinn was responsible for the laundry until they returned to pay her mother back the two dollars for the new journal, plus her regular chores the rest of the week. While going through the mundane process with much more laundry than Kate had, Quinn's thoughts would drift to Sam...had he been through Bedford yet, did he miss her like she missed him, did her pillow help him sleep? It was easier to get through her days now, at a week since he'd been gone, but she still slipped out to his cabin a couple nights and slept in his bed. It felt like him there, masculine, clean, simple. His smell was on his pillow and bedsheets and quilt. She could always feel his presence there, even with him so far away.

They had been through Bedford, dropping off items, picking up their money, and were on the road to Lynchburg. Sam sent Quinn a quick note from Bedford.

_Dearest Quinn Amelia,_

_We're passing threw Bedford now. I shot a wild turkey a few nights ago, tasty bird. Your pa's bussines is going good. The days are passing quikly now. Soon, we'll be to L'burg, then to R'mond, and then I'll be home to you. Last night I dreamed you were with me, kissing me. I miss you, Quinn._

_Love, Samuel_

_xxxxx_

He was right; the days were passing by quickly, for both of them. While she wasn't working at home, she was at Kate's cabin helping her.

Sam's travel was moving more swiftly since their loads were lightened. They moved things around so each wagon had an even load and were making good time to Lynchburg. Once in Lynchburg, though, Thomas passed along some disheartening news.

"I'd like to make one more trip before the end of the year, before the bad weather sets in," he told the two younger men that night around their campfire.

"This entire route again, pa?" Peyton asked.

"Just to Richmond...that's where we make our money, boys!" Thomas replied. Sam remained quiet.

"Before Christmas?" Peyton asked.

"We'll be back before Christmas so that you two may spend it with your precious lassies!"

Sam was relieved to hear that, at least.

That night, he untied the ribbon and opened the next tiny note in the stack. This one read: _But I carry this feeling, when you walked into my house, that you won't be walking out the door..._

He knew exactly what she meant, he thought tracing a finger over her writing.

_xxxxx_

Two weeks after Sam had been gone, Quinn received her next letter, this one posted from Lynchburg.

_Dearest Quinn A,_

_We're now in L'burg. The travel is faster because loads are lighter. Still miss you teribly tho. Your pa told us that he wants to make one more trip 'fore the end of the year, to R'mond only. We'll be back 'fore chrissmas. I promise you we'll wed soon after that trip. And you were right, when I walked into your house, I knew I'd never want to leave..._

_All my love, Samuel B_

She cried happy tears when she read those words from him.

Martha was helping her with laundry that day because she was bored too.

"I must admit I miss Peyton. Maybe not as much as you miss Sam," Martha said, laughing.

"You must miss Peyton a lot, then," Quinn laughed. "I miss Sam something fierce."

"Are you excited about your upcoming wedding?"

"I wish it could be taken care of when they return…very excited! Mama said we can start planning it when Sam comes home. It won't be until after Christmas though. Did Peyton tell you the news?" Quinn asked.

"What news?"

"Pa wants them to do another trip before the end of the year," Quinn said sadly. "Sam said they'd be home before Christmas, though, and that we'd wed as soon as we could then."

"Your wedding will be lovely…a winter wedding!" Martha said.

"I can't wait to be his wife…" Quinn said, daydreaming of being Mrs. Samuel Byrum Evans.

_xxxxx_

On October 3rd, after nearly three weeks of travel, the men arrived in Richmond. They went to the same hotel they stayed at previously, checked in, and then went to the general store to take care of business there. They were only spending one night in Richmond so they could begin their trek back home as soon as possible.

At the general store, they found all the pieces had been sold, so they unloaded what they had left in their wagons. Then, they had some shopping to do.

Sam noticed Thomas looking at the fabric goods.

"Young man, do you have any lavender satin perchance?" Thomas asked the young salesman.

The salesman went to a section of all satins on bolts. The light in there was dim so he went off to retrieve a lamp so they could see the colors better.

"Did Miss Quinn request anything, sir?" Sam asked Thomas. "If so, I'd like to buy it for her."

"Well, she did ask me to bring her 12 yards of lavender satin; she wants to make a dress from it," Thomas told him.

"Lavender like the flower?"

"A light purple, yes," Thomas replied. "That's a lot of fabric, son. I think she was going to make her…" He cleared his throat suddenly, deciding not to tell Sam about her making her wedding gown. "…a dress from it."

Sam looked at Thomas strangely. "I'd still like to purchase it for her, sir, if I may."

The salesman returned with a lantern, casting better light over the bolts of fabric. He pulled out a pale purple satin.

"How much?"

"Twelve yards, please," Sam answered.

The men made a few more purchases and returned to the hotel.

"This has been a highly successful trip, gentleman!" Thomas said, leading them to the tavern next to the hotel. "I'd like to buy you both a drink."

Sam and Peyton looked at one another. Peyton was totally fine with that; Sam was not much of a drinker. Thomas bought them a round of rum shots. Sam choked his back; Peyton drank his like a professional. Thomas ordered another round but Sam begged out of it, saying he was exhausted and was going to go upstairs to their room and rest. He was sure Peyton would take care of the shot he passed on.

In their room, Sam sat down at the table and pulled out his journal. He noted that it was well worn and nearly full. _So many memories_, he thought.

_Oct 3, 1817 Trav'ld to R'mond Va. Fabray Fine Goods doing very well here. Bought lavinder satin for Quinn; her pa said she wants to make a dress. I'm cureous…a wedding dress? We leave for home t'morow….thank the Lord._

He opened the next note from her. There were only a few more to open before he'd start over.

_I hope to see you soon, Samuel. Missing you has become a way of life for me now…I love you dearly._

He thought of her as he wrote his letter to her.

_Dearest Quinn,_

_Am in R'mond now. Woodwork doing good here. We leave t'morow for home. I can pictur you writing the notes to me. Those notes have made this trip barable for me. I am bringing you back a sirprise. I love you so much._

_Love, Samuel_

He sealed it and took it to the front desk to be delivered.

_xxxxx_

Quinn decided to clean Sam's cabin before he returned. There was no laundry to be done; her chores at the main house were light that day, and she had been to visit Kate so often she needed a break from her. She collected the cleaning supplies she'd need and wandered out to his cabin.

It was a beautiful autumn day, sunny, a little warm, and the world around her on fire with color. She thought after she cleaned she'd take her easel to the front porch to paint.

In his cabin, there really wasn't much to do; he kept it as neat as a pin himself but with no one staying there dust had collected. She dusted every available surface and then swept the dust and dirt out toward the door of the cabin. She moved a box from a corner to sweep behind it and glanced inside it. The picture she had seen previously on his nightstand was on top. She gently reached inside and brought it closer to herself.

It was her, his late wife, she knew it instinctively. The picture was just a drawing, possibly pencil or chalk, and was beginning to fade already. She wasn't smiling really, as was custom, just sitting primly to be drawn, maybe a hint of a smile on her lips. Quinn wondered if Sam had been watching her, trying to get her to smile. She had a tiny waist and tiny hands, her hair done up in a tight bun. Her dress was a dark color, black or brown, with a simple lace collar. She did look young. Quinn thought of how unjust it was that people were taken for sometimes no apparent reason; although it was a fact of life that it happened and unfortunately happened often, it still stung. Quinn had not even known this girl yet she had touched Sam's life deeply and that meant something to Quinn. She thought of how noble Sam had been in this girl's final hours, her final minutes, what a strong man that made him. She whispered a quick prayer over the small picture. Quinn realized this was most likely the only thing he owned related to that time of his life. She put the picture carefully back into the box where she had found it and continued cleaning.

Later that afternoon, she rode with her mother and Martha to Rocky Mount. She was anxious to hear from Sam or even her father or brother. It had been 10 days since his last one had reached her. At the general store, also the post office, there were three letters waiting for Quinn, her mother, and Martha. Quinn squealed; he was on his way home finally.

_xxxxx_

The empty wagons moved swiftly down the road from Richmond to Lynchburg. It was mid October and as soon as they returned to the Fabray farm, harvesting would be in full swing. Sam was expected to help at the Feazel farm during harvest. After harvest, he'd be working diligently in his workshop with Peyton to get the new orders filled in time for their next trip, leaving right after Thanksgiving. He had a feeling that from that point until he married Quinn he wouldn't be seeing very much of her.

Since the wagons were empty and the nights were chillier, the men were sleeping there instead of camping outside. They had caught catfish earlier that evening and fried it over an open fire after cleaning it. Peyton complained of a stomachache afterward and retired early. Sam sat up with Thomas, looking at the stars.

"How long have you and Missus Fabray been married?" Sam asked him.

Thomas thought for a moment. "It'll be 20 years March of next year."

"That's a long time, sir. I hope to be married to Quinn at least that long," Sam said quietly.

"Every man needs a good woman in his life, a helpmate. I found that in Miranda. I feel Quinn will make you a good wife," Thomas told him.

"I feel that way, as well, sir," Sam replied.

"I realize you and Peyton are anxious to get home to the ladies; I'd say we're two days outside Lynchburg, so possibly a week from home," Thomas said. "I must agree with Peyton; the catfish had an odd taste about him. I think I'll take some bicarb of sodium and go lay down. G'night son."

Thomas hefted himself up and walked slowly to his wagon. Sam felt fine, actually. The fish was not having the same effect on him as it was the other two men. Bored, he went to his wagon to get some rest.

In his wagon, he fixed his sleep pallet and lay down, resting his head on Quinn's pillow. He thought of her, thought of seeing her in a week. His eyes fluttered shut.

_He walked to his cabin; the door was opened slightly. He pushed it open slowly, walking in. In his bed, Quinn was there, laying there in her shift. He was suddenly at the bedside; his hand on her thigh moving her shift upward. She sat up a little, staring at him. His hand was in her blonde hair. He couldn't stop staring into her eyes. He was in bed with her, kissing her suddenly, feeling her body underneath him. He felt her pull her shift up more; she unfastened his trousers, exposing his manhood. They lay back down and he felt he was in her, moving back and forth slowly, kissing her neck. He felt her knees raise up next to his hips and felt her moving with him._

He startled awake suddenly, his heart racing, gasping, the front of his pants soaked. He sat up partway, looking down at himself, still rigid. He looked at the lantern, still lit. He must've fallen asleep. Nothing like that had ever happened to him. He attributed it to the catfish, not the fact that he hadn't felt her touch in three weeks.

Two days later while in Lynchburg, he sent Quinn a short note:

_Dearest Quinn,_

_In L'burg…will be home soon! I've missed you. I dreamed of you a few nights ago, a beautiful dream._

_Love, Sam_

_xxxxx_

Quinn received Sam's letter from Lynchburg two days later. _He is probably in Bedford by now or almost there_, she thought excitedly. She was also happy to read he had dreamed of her; she had been dreaming of him as well. Most times she'd wake up from the dreams drenched in sweat, heart pounding, her hand clutching her shift at her chest. She could only recall bits of the dreams, sometimes in his embrace, sometimes him over her, sometimes his hand under her dress, sometimes his mouth on her. Sometimes she'd wake up feeling his hot breath on her neck, his tongue against hers, his stiff length pressing against her center. After these dreams, it'd take her a long time to finally fall back asleep, thoughts of him racing through her mind. She knew he would be home in just a few days…if she could only hold out that much longer.


	15. Harvest Ball

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 15-Harvest Ball**

**Franklin County, Virginia, Late October to November 1817**

Five days had passed since Quinn received Sam's letter sent from Lynchburg. She knew it took at least two days for the letter to get to her so it had been seven days since he had written. For the past three days, she had spent all the time she could on the front porch during the day and stayed up as late as she could manage at night, waiting on his return.

After mailing her letter from Lynchburg, anything that could slow down their travel, happened. A broken wagon wheel one day, Peyton and Thomas sick to their stomach another day, a sick horse one day, waiting on the shopkeeper in Bedford for a day. Finally, they made it to Rocky Mount a couple hours past nightfall. Thomas stopped their caravan and said he wanted to camp there for the night.

"I think I'll go on, sir, if that is fine with you," Sam said.

"I know you want to see Quinn, son, but it'll be the middle of the night when you arrive; she'll long be asleep," Thomas told him.

"I'll be to the farm in two hours, sir. Besides, I'll be able to work some on the new orders t'morrow morn before going to the Feazels. I really would like to see her, sir."

Thomas sighed. He had been lovesick once.

"Go to her, boy. Godspeed!"

Sam thanked him and ran back to his wagon, snapped the reins, and rushed home toward Quinn.

_xxxxx_

Her father's clock ticked midnight on the mantel in the sitting room, so Quinn put down her mending and yawned. _Another day with no sign of Sam_, she thought wearily and went to her bedchamber where Martha was already fast asleep. She slipped into her shift and crawled into her cool bed, pulling the quilts up to her chin. She closed her eyes and thought of Sam, the day he ran into her at the revival. How timid he had been, how worried he had been about his mother's Bible, how the black suit hung on his thin frame and his hat sat crookedly on his trimmed blonde hair. She thought of him the day she ran to him and made him ride her away on his stallion and what had happened on the horse…how confident he had been that day, how he had not questioned her but helped her onto his horse and took her away, how close they had been riding home.

_Is that galloping?_ she thought sleepily. _The harness is shaking, the wheels rattling, the horses snorting and galloping…a wagon! A wagon is racing down the road!_ She jumped out of bed and ran across the hall to her brothers' room, which faced the front of the house.

"Quinny? Is that you?" Joseph asked her quietly.

"Tis I, Joseph! I'm so sorry! Oh! It's him…he's home!" she cried seeing the wagon nearly roll over making the turn into the drive.

She ran back to her room, threw on her robe hastily, and ran downstairs.

_xxxxx_

As he turned onto the Fabray's road, he urged his team faster. He wanted to arrive before she went to bed. He nearly missed the turn into their drive and thought he felt the wagon go over on two wheels. Looking at the house, he could see no lamplight emanating from any of the front windows and momentarily felt disappointment.

He barely had the wagon slowed down when he saw her burst out of the front door and run onto the front porch, her robe and shift swirling around her feet as she stopped at the steps. He jumped from the wagon and let the horses take it forward; they'd stop it before crashing into anything.

She ran down off the porch barefoot and into his arms. Her arms went immediately around his neck, and she buried her face into his shoulder. She pressed her hands behind his head, into his long hair, feeling his beard rub against her cheek. He smelled of campfire and sweat. He lifted her off her feet, holding her tightly.

"Sam…" was all she could manage to whisper. When he began kissing her, she knew it wasn't a dream; he was standing there, holding her in his arms, kissing her deeply.

She felt light and small in his arms but was warm and breathing against his neck. He heard her whisper his name and he kissed her suddenly. It had been so long since he had heard her voice.

Breaking the kiss but keeping his forehead pressed against hers, he whispered, "I got here as quickly as I could, Quinn…you don't know how badly I've missed you."

"I heard you coming, Sam…from down the road…I had to see you, make sure it was you…" she mumbled. "I've missed you horribly."

They began kissing again when he realized it was cold outside and she was trembling slightly.

"I need to get the wagon and put the horses up…can you slip out tonight?" he asked.

"Where's pa and Peyton?"

He chuckled quietly. "Still in Rocky Mount…I told your pa I was coming home tonight."

She glanced over her shoulder at the house, then back at Sam.

"I'll be there shortly," she whispered, kissing him on the cheek and running inside.

_xxxxx_

At his cabin, Quinn was there when he arrived from stabling the horses. She had a fire started and was heating up water. She had dressed in her day clothes to visit him in his cabin, feeling her shift was inappropriate.

He hung up his coat and took off his boots by the door. He had her pillow in his hand and set it on the table.

"Sit here, Sam," she said quietly, pointing to a chair she had pulled near the hearth. She hooked the hot handle of the pot of water and set it on the floor next to where he sat.

She came around to stand in front of him and then knelt down between his legs, carefully dipping a rag into the hot water.

"Take your shirt off," she instructed him, letting the rag cool.

He pulled his shirt off, in somewhat of a state of disbelief as he looked downward at her between his knees. She put one hand on his knee and pushed herself up to where she was at eye level with his chest. She took the warm rag and started at his face, washing his skin slowly. He closed his eyes and let her run the rag over him, relaxing his muscles. She soaked the rag into the water and wrung it out over his head, letting the water run through his hair, trickle down his face, rivulets of water coursing down his shoulders to his bare chest and back. She moved the rag down to his neck and shoulders and then dipped it back into the water.

"Is this okay, Sam?" she asked him. He opened his eyes; his eyelids felt so heavy. He nodded and mumbled something in the affirmative and closed his eyes again. Between the warmth of the fire on him and the touch of her hand, he was afraid he might doze off, if not for the erection he had keeping him awake.

"Lift up an arm then," she said. He did as he was told, feeling the warm cloth under his arm, then his other arm before she rinsed it again. She leaned against him, between his legs, brushing against his penis.

She washed his arms next, from shoulder to his fingertips, then went to the top of his chest after rinsing the rag again. She was painfully aware of his trousers and the situation there. She moved the cloth slowly over his chest, looking at the light hair there, watching his nipples harden. She leaned into him and pressed her lips to his nipple. She moved the cloth down slowly to the waist of his pants. She took the rag and dipped it in the water.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her; she looked back at him, her eyes wide and questioning. He moved his hand to his pants and undid the hook-and-eye. She wrung out the cloth and held her breath.

With her free hand, she moved the flap of the front of his trousers open. She glanced at his organ before closing her eyes quickly. She moved the cloth to him, rubbing him gently there, mainly to clean him but partly to touch him.

"Quinn…" he moaned when he felt the rag on his penis. "Uh…"

"Should I stop?" she whispered.

"No…no…" he mumbled, reaching down to her arm. "C'mere…" He pulled her up gently onto his knee, wrapping his arm behind her. "May I?" His hand moved to her knee, under her dress.

"Yes…" she whispered to him, kissing his cheek. His hand slid up her thigh as she kept rubbing him with the cloth. His hand stopped at the top of her thigh; with his thumb, he felt soft hair between her legs.

"Quinn…" he said quietly, his voice rough and deep. "Can I?"

She was pretty sure she knew what he was asking; she wanted his hand there badly. She nodded, kissing him on the mouth.

Slowly, he moved his hand over her gently, feeling her hair there, then the warmth emanating from her.

"Mmmm…" she groaned, biting her lip. He stopped.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked her.

"No…don't…"

He looked at her quickly, whispering _okay _against her lips before moving his hand again. He used his long finger to push against her there, causing her to moan quietly. His finger slipped into unbelievable wetness between her folds. When he did, her grip tightened on him and nearly pushed him over the edge.

To her, he felt nervous when he began touching her. He moved slowly, gently, hesitantly, over her area, not wanting to hurt her or move too quickly. He stroked her for a bit and then his finger slipped between the folds of skin and she nearly screamed. He moved his finger against her like she moved her hand on him. He was moaning quietly into her mouth, mumbling _god_ over and over again, but never stopping his finger on her flesh. If anything, he began moving it more quickly over her, making her mumble against his mouth. She suddenly felt a familiar warm tense feeling building in her lower abdomen, something that only she had been able to make happen before.

"Please don't stop…" she muttered into his ear.

"Are you okay?" he asked, breathlessly.

She nodded, her eyes closed tightly. She was still stroking him, his breathing erratic, his body trembling next to hers. She ran her thumb to the underside of his shaft, causing him to shudder. Even though he was hard in her hand, the skin was loose. As she tightened her grip, she'd move the skin up and over the end of him, every time eliciting a moan from him.

"It's close Quinn…" he said so quietly she almost didn't hear him.

He pushed his hips into her hand a bit and tapped his finger on her. That feeling snapped in her then and she pressed against him as much as she could, moaning, her entire body tensed up, then shaking.

"Umm…umm…uhhh…" He glanced down at her hand on his manhood as he exploded onto her dress, white strings of fluid shooting out of him. He let his head drop back as she stroked him through it.

When he looked at her again, his cheeks were flushed; she could tell even under his beard. He had moved his hand back to her knee. He noticed she was flushed, as well, still biting her lip.

"About your dress…" he said quietly.

"It'll clean…" She took the rag and wiped his fluid off her clothing. "I'm so happy you're home."

"I'm happy to be home…" he said, kissing her again. He fastened his pants, and she got up from his lap.

They collapsed into his bed and slept.

xxxxx

Quinn awoke to sunlight, in her bed. She had slipped back into the house and was just crawling into bed when she heard her mother and Patsy moving about downstairs. She fell asleep for another couple hours.

Sam was awake when she slipped out of his bed. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, thinking he was asleep, and left quietly. It took all he had not to grab her hand and make her stay. He couldn't fall back asleep so he arose and went to his workshop to work before going to the Feazels for his harvesting duties. His thoughts were focused on Quinn and what had happened between them the night before. He had never felt a woman in such a manner, not even Elizabeth for she had been too modest during the early days of their marriage. He had been somewhat embarrassed that he had expelled his bodily fluid onto Quinn but she did not seem bothered by it at all. All he wanted was to wake up with her; he felt if they fell asleep together they should wake up together. That disconnect was bothering him.

Once the sun awoke Quinn, she lay there with her eyes closed and relived the night before…how it had felt with Sam's hand touching her very private area, how he had brought her to the brink of unbelievable pleasure and pushed her over. She had felt as though she was under his spell then, vulnerable to his touch, to his lips on her skin. Then, when they lay together in his bed, facing one another, he had kissed her and told her he loved her. _In my heart we are already married_, he had whispered to her.

Her quiet reverie was interrupted by her boisterous older brother, bursting into her room to awaken Martha, still asleep in Kate's old bed.

"Martha! We're home! Wake up dearest! Wake up!" he said, hopping onto the bed next to her. Quinn covered up her head and turned her back to them.

"Quinn! Rise dear sister! Mr. Evans is home, as well!" Peyton said to Quinn.

She threw the quilt off her face. "Dear brother, hasten your absence from my chamber so I may dress in private!"

He kissed Martha and left the room.

"Dress quickly sister! I'm sure Sam awaits your presence!" Martha said, getting up. Quinn got up, realizing she had to relive her reunion with Sam that morning, as if she had not seen him the night before. That thought motivated her. She chose a different dress than the one from the day before, just a plain brown work dress, and braided her hair quickly, fixing it into a bun, and then tied her white frilly day cap into place. She picked up the journal she had for him and tucked it into a pocket in her dress.

Once Martha was ready, they both went downstairs where Peyton was waiting with open arms for Martha. Quinn found Sam waiting in the dining room, seemingly nervous, grasping a package wrapped in plain brown paper. She hoped he would act as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

"Sam! You're home!" she said, gasping and running to him. She jumped into his arms and let him hug her tight.

"Quinn…I've missed you so…" he mumbled into her hair. He didn't care that he had to act as though he hadn't seen her the night before; whether it had been a month or a few hours overnight, he still had missed her greatly.

He pulled away from her a bit, gazing at her, wondering if she was thinking the same thing he was. She stared into his eyes, her lips parted slightly, thinking of the night before.

"For you…" He placed the package in her hands.

She looked from the package to him, knowing from the weight of the gift what it was. She pulled the journal from her pocket and handed it to him.

"For you…" she said. She untied the twine and opened the paper to find lavender satin.

"Sam?" she asked him. He was staring at the journal in his hands.

"It's twelve yards; your pa said you needed it, so I took care of it," Sam told her. "Thank you very much for this journal. My other one is nearly full of my ramblings."

She laid the package on the table and opened it up a bit.

"This is lovely. Did pa tell you why I needed it?" she asked.

"He said for a dress…is that the right color?"

"It's perfect, Samuel…thank you so much!" She hugged him tightly.

"I'm headed to the Feazels for the day; I've already been at the workshop for a couple hours," he said to her. "I'll see you at supper, I hope."

"Yes, we'll see one another then," she replied. "It warms my heart to see you once again."

"And mine too…" He kissed her quickly.

He left for his grandmother's farm, and she walked slowly to the staircase to take her fabric to her room, still stunned that she was carrying what was to be her wedding gown.

Martha followed her, grabbing her arm gently.

"What did Mr. Evans bring you? Peyton brought me hair clips!"

Quinn examined them, already in Martha's hair. "Beautiful clips, sister. Umm, Sam brought me fabric…lavender satin."

"Oh! May I see it? What do you plan on making with this?" In Quinn's room, Martha looked at it further. "Why Quinn, there's enough here for a…a dress! Are you making your wedding gown from this? Does Sam know?"

"He said papa said it was for a dress so I don't think papa told him what kind of dress…yes, my wedding gown…" she said quietly.

Martha squealed and began going over dress patterns with Quinn.

_xxxxx_

At the Feazel farm, Sam stopped in the house to speak to his grandmother.

"Well, if it isn't Samuel Evans! Do my eyes deceive me?" Grandmother Feazel said, hugging him tightly.

"It's me, grandmother. I'm sorry it has been some time since my last visit. The carpentry business is keeping my quite busy. I have an apprentice now, and we just returned from Richmond," Sam told her.

"Oh my! Richmond! Mr. Fabray's business must be very successful. We've missed you on the farm. Your uncle Phillip is at the barn already," she said.

"I also bring more happy news, grandmother. I'm to be married at the first of next year," he said, smiling. "To Miss Quinn Fabray."

His grandmother gasped, her hands going to her face, hugging him again. "You've found love again, my dear boy. I'm so happy for you," she said.

"Thank you, grandmother. I'll go to the barn after I visit mother's grave," Sam said, pecking her on the cheek and leaving by way of the back door.

At his mother's grave, he knelt down, removing his hat.

"Mother, I bring wonderful news. I am to marry Miss Quinn Fabray soon. I brought her here this past summer. She has been very respectful of my first wife and what I have endured with her loss. She is a beautiful young lady, inside and out, I am convinced. When I'm not with her, she is always in my thoughts. And, when I am with her, my heart is full. I hope you're happy for me, ma." He said a silent prayer and went to the barn to find his uncle.

_xxxxx_

For the next month, the main focus of farms in the area was on harvesting their crops. Not only did Sam have to help with harvesting at the Feazel farm but he also had to help at the Fabray farm and keep up with his carpentry work. Most days, he only saw Quinn at suppertime. And, much to their consternation, Quinn stayed at the main house most every night due to the pure exhaustion of her and Sam both. She found that she'd lay down to rest, waiting on the rest of the house to calm down, but then would wake the next morning having slept the entire night in her own bed.

Most days, after helping with housework and food preparation and doing her chores, she worked on the lavender dress. With the help of her mother, Kate, and Martha, they had finally decided on a pattern and were busy piecing it together.

After supper one night, Sam and Quinn sat on the porch in the chilly night air.

"I wanted to discus something with you, Quinn…" he began. "When I return from our next trip to Richmond, I'd like to file our marriage bond at Rocky Mount." He held her hand in both of his. "I looked at that new book, the _Farmers Almanac_, and I think January 5th would be a fine day to be married. It's a Monday."

She was quiet, taking it all in. She would be his bride on the fifth of January, 1818.

"Does that sound fine for you? Will you have enough time to get everything ready? I figured Peyton could be my surety as he'll be making the Richmond trip with me and your pa," Sam told her.

"Perfect…that day will be absolutely perfect, Samuel," she replied, leaning in to kiss him.

"Our lips are cold," he mumbled, smiling.

"Very…"

They kissed some more until they were both too cold to continue sitting on the porch, so they moved inside where she read some to him before he left for his cabin for the evening.

In his new journal that evening, he wrote:

_Nov 24, 1817 I am to be merried to Quinn Amelia Fabray on Jan 5, 1818. I am counting down the days…42 now. We are to atend the Harvest Ball in thre days. I have met anohter who shares my soul._

He wrote a short missive to his father, as well, informing him of the news and his wedding date, which he mailed from Rocky Mount the next day.

_xxxxx_

Three days later, the Harvest Ball was to take place at the meetinghouse since harvesting duties were accomplished for the year. The day after the ball, Thomas, Peyton, and Sam were leaving for their final Richmond trip of the year. Quinn planned on spending every single second of the ball wrapped in Sam's arms that evening.

Before the ball, Sam pulled Quinn aside and quietly asked her if she could shave him. He had let his beard go since returning from his trip to Richmond and had not dealt with it during harvesting. He was going to have to have someone shave him with a straight razor. She told him to meet her in the summer kitchen and she'd help him with it. She had never shaved a man before, only seen her mother and Patsy do so with her father and brothers.

He sat down in a chair, and she draped a rag across his chest. She already had warmed water from the house and had found the straight razor, tucking it in her apron. She borrowed the shaving soap, mug, and brush and met him in the summer kitchen so she could shave him privately without being bothered by the rest of the family. She trimmed the length off his beard first, then whipped the soap into a lather and lathered his face gently. He had laid his head back, eyes closed, trusting her completely.

"Are you ready?" she asked softly. He glanced up at her and nodded slightly. "Okay...sit still..."

She held the razor carefully and began at his neck, gliding it slowly up toward the curve of his chin and jaw. She could feel the razor cutting through his hair, sometimes pulling. He'd squirm a little and she'd apologize but he said he was fine. After finishing his neck, she moved to his cheeks, then his upper lip and chin. She cleaned off the excess lather, only seeing a couple nicked spots, and then laid a warm rag over his face. He sat upright, and she came around in front of him and sat on his knee.

"How does it feel?" she asked when he removed the rag and rubbed his palm over his face. He looked like a young boy to her then.

"Smooth. You did a fine job," he said, rubbing his neck.

"There are a couple nicks; shall I kiss them?"

He chuckled a little. "Will it make them better?"

"Maybe..." One was on his chin, another lower on his neck on his Adam's apple, and a third near his ear.

"Hmm...I think that one on my neck still hurts..." he mumbled. She looked at him, smirking a bit, but kissed him there again.

"Okay," he said, gently pushing her back. "We must get ready. No more of that right now." He stood up and she could see why.

"Fine. I want every dance with you tonight, Samuel," she said, collecting the shaving apparatus and turning for the house. He grabbed her elbow and spun her around to him, kissing her fully on the mouth.

"You shall..." he whispered and left for his cabin. He had taken her breath away with that one kiss.

In his journal, he wrote quickly: _T'night is Harvest Ball. I am atending this yr wit Quinn Fabray. She shaved me t'day, her first time._

_xxxxx_

Quinn decided to wear her dark green velvet dress that night since it was so cold already. Sam wore his grandfather's black suit as it was now fitting him better. He bathed before dressing, as did she. He buttoned the jacket, straightened his tie, ran his fingers through his longish hair, and headed to the stables to hitch the horses to her buckboard.

Quinn was finishing getting ready with Martha and Kate who had come over earlier. They were giggling and happy, having fun. Quinn's mother brought them their own rouge to have and a bottle of perfume and color for their eyes.

"Papa brought me new rouge and colors and perfume from his last trip, so you girls may have this," she told them, closing the door to their shocked gasps.

Quinn chose green for her eyes and dabbed rouge lightly on her cheeks and lips. She wore her hair down that evening because she planned on wearing it up during their wedding. She did pin the sides up with green hair clips. She sprayed a tiny bit of perfume on and slid her feet into matching green velvet slippers.

Kate was wearing a pink gown that she had taken out to fit her expanding waist. Martha wore Quinn's brown satin dress with the black velvet piping.

Downstairs, Sam was waiting with Peyton and James and Quinn's younger brothers. The three young ladies made their way down the staircase. Sam watched her descend; she never failed to take his breath away. She walked up to him; he took her hands in his.

"You're beautiful," he said quietly. She was beautiful that night, her eyes shining, her hair radiant, the dress fit her perfectly, accentuating her figure and the color of her eyes.

She cast her eyes downward demurely, blushing somewhat. "Thank you, Sam..."

He retrieved her cloak for her, telling her it was frightfully cold, and wrapped her in it. The group left the house to get into their respective wagons and buggies. Sam and Quinn were taking her three younger brothers with them. They clamored into the back seat of the buggy, and Sam helped Quinn up into the front seat to sit next to him. The night air was cold; steamy puffs of breath were coming from all of them.

"Joseph, sit between us...keep us warm!" Thomas Junior said.

"Joseph, who are you asking to dance? Mary or Francis?" John asked him, poking him in the ribs.

"Oww! Leave me be, John! I know you'll be asking Susan; you've had your eye on her for a coon's age!"

"Have not!"

"Have too! That's Thomas...he's the one smitten with Susan!"

"Am not!"

"Maybe _I'll_ ask Susan for a dance!" Sam hollered at them. Quinn gasped in mock surprise as the boys laughed.

"_I_ shall ask her to dance!" stated John, thereby acknowledging his intentions, making Joseph and Thomas laugh.

"Maybe I'll ask Delphia to dance," Thomas said. "She has pretty braids."

Quinn giggled next to Sam. He reached over to her and pulled her closer to him on the bench. "I'll keep you warm," he said next to her ear.

She shivered; his lips just barely brushed her ear as he spoke.

"You are cold, aren't you?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine, Sam," she replied, smiling and snuggling into him. He wrapped one arm around her and held the reins in his other hand.

"I love you, Quinn," he whispered to her, the feeling rushing through him.

"I love you too," she answered, kissing his smooth cheek, holding his hand at her shoulder.

_xxxxx_

True to his word, Sam danced every reel with Quinn at the Harvest Ball. He realized he felt as familiar with Quinn as he had felt with his late wife and that thought relieved him to a degree. It was a happy night for them both, even though he would be leaving in the morning for another month. They had their wedding date set; her dress was nearly complete. She was anxious about living with him on one hand but on the other hand felt ready to begin that new part of her life.

Sam's grandmother and uncle attended the ball that evening and offered their congratulations to Sam and Quinn. As Sam and Quinn danced around, they noticed Joseph dancing with not only Mary Highwood but also Francis Covington and he looked very happy with both of them. Quinn's twin brothers were on their best behavior that night, sharing dances with Delphia Smithe and her twin sister Savannah. Even Quinn's parents danced several dances over the course of the evening. Sam and Quinn passed Peyton and Martha and James and Kate much of the night, though Kate later told Quinn the pregnancy made her very tired.

So many times during the evening she'd gaze into Sam's eyes and there were no words between them, only looks and touches, occasional chaste kissing. At the end of the ball, Sam kissed her softly before getting her wrap. Riding back in the buckboard, her feet hurt from all the dancing but she couldn't stop smiling.

Her brothers couldn't stop talking about their dances with their lady friends behind Sam and Quinn. Sam and Quinn stayed quiet, sharing content glances from time to time. She automatically scooted up against him for the ride home, basking in his warmth.

_xxxxx_

Later that night, after her parents returned home and the house was quiet, Quinn slipped out to Sam's cabin. She brought an extra quilt for his bed due to the chill of the night air. They buried themselves under the quilts with the bolster between them.

"I had the best time tonight, Samuel," she said quietly, tracing the veins along his arm draped over the big pillow.

"I did as well," he replied, his finger going up and down her side. "I think this next month will go faster, knowing what is waiting for us at the end of my travels."

She smiled. "I'll still miss you terribly."

He gazed at her, watching the light from the dying fire dance over her skin. He pulled the bolster out from between them and dropped it on the floor behind him.

"Please, I want to be close to you tonight…" he said quietly.

"Sam…" she whispered.

They scooted close together, heads resting on one pillow, lips touching.

"I just want to sleep next to you, not the bolster…"

They were kissing and touching one another when Quinn sat up and unbuttoned the work dress she had worn out there.

"W-What are you…?"

She just looked at him, dropping the dress off, leaving her in her shift. "It's so warm under the quilts, Sam…" She lay back down under their blankets and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her soft skin under his hands.

"Okay…" he mumbled.

"Shall we have music at our wedding?" she asked.

"Yes and dancing…" he replied, running his fingers through her hair.

"I'll be so happy when you return and happy that it'll be our wedding day. Shall I prepare your cabin also?"

"The day we get married I want you to be able to walk out of your father's house and into mine…" he told her.

She giggled lightly. "I about have my dress ready…"

"You do?" he asked, surprised.

"I do…" She reached to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up. "Take off your shirt."

He sat up and did as she said.

When he lay back down, she turned her back to him and curled into him. She felt his warm lips on the back of her neck.

"I never want to be anywhere other than next to you," he mumbled against her skin.

She smiled in the dark and squeezed his hand.

They drifted off to sleep.

_xxxxx_

In the darkness of the morning, he awoke in an empty bed. He dressed quickly in the cold cabin and prepared his belongings for his month of travel. She had left a message for him on the table.

_Dearest S,_  
><em>For the rest of our lives, we shall be next to each other, in our hearts, in our souls. Think of me often when you gaze at the stars…as will I. Look for me in the morn…I will be sure to see you off on your travels.<em>

_All my love,_  
><em>Quinn<em>

He folded the note and put it in his shirt pocket and headed to the stables to prepare for his trip.


	16. Blizzards And Bonds

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 16-Blizzards And Bonds**

**Franklin County, Virginia, November and December 1817**

Shortly after Quinn returned to the main house from Sam's cabin, she pulled herself out of bed yet again and helped her mother prepare the men's lunches and other food provisions for their Richmond trip. Peyton and Martha had arrived already, and the men were loading the wagons behind the house. Finally, when the foodstuff was ready, Miranda and Martha took the large basket to Thomas' wagon and Quinn took the three lunch pails, depositing the first two at her father's wagon and Peyton's wagon and then made her way to Sam's wagon. She set it on the bench and found him behind the wagon, loading chairs and gun racks and cradles and picture frames.

"G'morning Sam..." she said quietly. He turned at the sound of her voice, set down what he was holding, and pulled her into a tight embrace. Minutes passed and they stood like that, not moving. Her face was buried in his shoulder, taking in his scent, and he was nestled into her hair. His arms held her underneath her cloak, not wanting to let her go.

Finally, he mumbled _this is gonna be so hard_ into her hair. He felt her shiver against him and heard her weeping quietly.

"I told myself I wouldn't cry this time...I always fail," she said quietly into his shoulder.

He pulled back from her a bit and rubbed his thumb over the tears streaking down her face. He leaned in and touched his lips to hers softly. He reached into his coat pocket and said _for you_ and tucked something into her apron pocket.

"I love you, Sam," she whispered, kissing him once more quickly and then ran back to the house. He understood why she ran from him; if she stood there any longer it'd just make it harder when he had to leave. He finished loading his wagon and pulled it around to the front of the house, falling last in line after Peyton. The three women watched them from the porch in the brisk air that morning, just as the sun rose. The wagons pulled forward to began their long trek to Richmond.

_xxxxx_

Inside, the women congregated in the sitting room with hot tea and biscuits to work on mending and anything else to keep them busy.

"Does it ever get any easier?" Quinn asked, breaking the silence. "Watching them go?" Miranda and Martha looked at her.

"No, it never gets easier," her mother answered finally.

"At least you have your wedding gown to occupy your time," Martha said. "What do you have left to do?"

"A row of buttons down the back, at least 50, the neckline, hem the skirt, the bodice work..." Quinn said quietly.

"We should ride over to Kate's today too," Martha said. "She looked quite _large_ at the Harvest Ball."

"She told me the dancing made her very tired," Quinn said.

"I think I shall call on her, as well," Miranda added.

Quinn smiled. A social outing was just what she needed.

They found Kate busy at work at her cabin and she gladly took a break when the three other women arrived. Even though she appeared exhausted, she smiled when she saw them at her door. She ushered them in and poured everyone hot tea.

"The menfolk left this morn?" she asked. The other three nodded.

"I'll pray for their swift travel and calm weather," she said. "I needed to go to Rocky Mount tomorrow morn, maybe you could accompany me?"

"Quinn and Martha can ride with you; I need to be at the house for Granny Palmer. She thinks the Conner girl's time is nigh," Miranda said.

"James felt the baby move last night!" Kate said excitedly. "I've been feeling movement for quite some time but he felt it the first time last evening. I think it helped it become more real to him finally."

Quinn stood up and hugged her sister. "I'm so happy for you, Kate."

"I can't wait for you to become a mother, as well!"

Quinn squealed a little. "Soon, I hope!"

"Soon for me too, I hope!" Martha added, giggling.

Their visit ended on a happy note with Kate making arrangements to come to the Fabrays the next morning.

Back at home, Quinn was helping her mother in the kitchen when she reached in her apron pocket and felt a slip of paper. _Sam's note!_ she thought, pulling it out quickly and finding a quiet well-lit corner to read it.

_Dearest Quinn Amelia,_  
><em>I hope you know I alreddy miss you and I have not left yet. I verry much look f'ward to our upcoming wedding but what I look f'ward to most is waking up with you next to me. I shall count the stars in the souhtern sky at night as I hope you will. I promise to be home b'fore Crissmas.<em>

_All my love,_  
><em>Samuel<em>

She was happy to read his message yet mad at herself for carrying it around for nearly the entire day, forgetting it was in her pocket. That night, after supper, she strolled down the drive to the gate where they usually stood. She looked up at the expanse of dark southern sky, covered in stars, knowing he was looking at the very same ones.

_xxxxx_

The men had stopped in Bedford for the night. It was cold, yet their fire warmed them. Sam had a small space for sleeping in his wagon, amongst the furniture and other odds and ends he was transporting. Before climbing into the back of the wagon, he stood next to the horses, emptying his bladder, and looked up at the southern sky, almost overwhelmed by how clear the night was and how many stars were visible. He hoped she was looking at the same night sky he was gazing at. Back in the wagon, he got as comfortable as possible under three quilts with his head on her pillow. He fell asleep thinking of her.

At the Bedford general store, they unloaded furniture and collected monies and orders. Sam sent a short note to Quinn to let her know they were fine.

_Dearest Quinn,_  
><em>In B'ford t'day. Travell has been fine yet lonly. The stars last night were wond'rus...did you see them?<em>

_All my love,_  
><em>Samuel<em>

_xxxxx_

At Rocky Mount the next day, there was a letter for Sam Evans and a letter from David and Anne Harter. Quinn wasn't sure if she should open the letter to Sam. The return name was only _A Evans, N Carolina_, so she knew it must be from his father. She carried both letters home. Her mother opened the one from Anne Harter and read from it.

"We are now in Wayne County, Indiana, in a settlement called Symond's Creek, a good lot of fellow Quakers. Mr. Harter presently is a blacksmith in the small town of Cambridge City. Our first child is due in the spring." With that news, there were squeals and whispered prayers from the women. Miranda continued: "The land here is plentiful and beautiful. There are gently rolling hills and enough creeks and rivers to supply our water needs. The land west of us is still untamed, wild, inhabited by the red skins though they are very helpful. We do miss Virginia, however. We miss our families. We are leaving the first of December to travel that way to spend time with the Harters and Palmers as once we return to Indiana we will not be returning to Virginia." The happiness about the news of the baby was gone, replaced by sadness. Miranda slowly folded the letter.

"Mama, this came for Mr. Evans...I believe it is from his father in North Carolina. What should I do with it?" Quinn asked her mother. Her mother took the letter from her.

"I'll read it to see if it's news that Samuel needs to be made aware of..." Miranda said, opening the letter and glancing over it swiftly. "I think it can wait until he returns."

"Is his father's family ailing?"

"His father will be attending your wedding," Miranda told her. Quinn had been standing but that news knocked the wind out of her and she sat down hard on the chair next to her mother.

"He doesn't get along very well with his father," Quinn said.

"This will be a fine time then for them to make amends. You should call on Grandmother Feazel and give her the news," Miranda told her. "Maybe Sam should be made aware of this."

Quinn agreed and went to her room to choose an outfit.

_xxxxx_

The next day, Quinn went with her mother first to Granny Palmer's so she could read Anne Harter's letter. They also found out that the Conner girl had been laboring for several hours already and that they would be needed to attend the birth probably that evening. They then went to Sam's grandmother's home.

"Mrs. Fabray and her lovely daughter Quinn! Welcome!" Grandmother Feazel said to them cheerfully after Miranda had knocked.

The two ladies entered the farmhouse and went to the sitting room.

"Have a seat and I'll pour you some hot tea," she said, moving to the kitchen quickly.

Quinn smoothed the pink dress under her, sitting on the edge of the worn settee next to her mother. Grandmother Feazel returned with a tray of cups of hot tea and cookies.

"Samuel brought me the joyous news of your upcoming nuptials, Miss Quinn! How excited you must be!"

Quinn smiled, thinking of her Sam. "Yes, ma'am, it is to happen soon. I am very excited. In fact, that is the reason mother and I are here this afternoon."

"Oh...nothing is wrong, I hope," his grandmother said, concerned.

"Oh no...I don't think so anyway..." Quinn went on to explain that Sam was on his trip to Richmond and showed her the letter he received from Aaron Evans.

Grandmother Feazel read the letter quickly, her face darkening as she finished it.

"Oh dear…should I send Phillip after Sam to let him know?" she said, handing the letter back to Quinn.

Quinn looked to her mother for advice. Her mother was silent, letting Quinn make this decision for her future husband.

"I think Sam would want to know his father will be attending," Quinn answered.

"Fine. I'll send Phillip tomorrow to catch them," his grandmother said.

"He should take this," Quinn handed the letter back to Grandmother Feazel. "Could Phillip stop by our house before he leaves?"

"Of course…I'll send him over at sunup."

"Thank you, Grandmother Feazel," Quinn told her.

The three ladies shared more local gossip and what they knew of national goings on before Miranda and Quinn left for home.

"Why were you silent, mama? When I asked you about Sam?"

"That was a decision for you to make, not me," she replied.

Quinn looked forward as the carriage carried them home. Once back home, Quinn retreated to her room and sat down to write a note to Sam.

_xxxxx_

Quinn waited on the front porch in the early sunlight the next day, watching her breath come out in steamy puffs. She clutched the letter to Sam to give to his uncle. As she sat in the rocking chair, she wondered how Sam would take the news he was about to receive. She wished she could ride with his uncle on his horse but knew that was not possible. She heard galloping coming up their drive; Phillip was there at her request.

She walked down to meet him at his horse. "Can you please carry this letter to Sam also? I'd appreciate it so much." She held the letter out to him.

He looked her up and down in the dimness of the sunrise. "When did they set out?" He took the letter from her and pocketed it.

"Three morns ago…" she answered him. "Thank you very much." She cast her eyes down demurely but not before noticing his leering gaze at her. She wrapped the cloak tighter around herself.

"Ayuh," he mumbled, nudging the horse with his heels and heading back down the drive.

Quinn turned and went back inside the house to begin her daily chores. She knew the men were probably nearly to Lynchburg but Phillip was moving swiftly on horseback; he might catch up to them by that evening. She decided to keep Sam in her thoughts the entire day.

_xxxxx_

Thomas, Peyton, and Sam had just made camp on the outskirts of Lynchburg on the evening of their third day of travel. Sam had hoped this trip would pass by quickly but so far time was dragging for him. At least once they dropped off more furniture in Lynchburg, their loads would be lighter going the distance of the longest leg of their trip to Richmond.

They were clustered around their fire, trying to stay warm, eating rabbit stew and Dutch oven biscuits. _I'd give anything for Quinn's biscuits right now_, Sam thought, gnawing on the tough-as-nails bread Thomas had prepared.

They heard the whinny of a horse being slowed to a lope, then a trot, then a walk, near them, a man's voice mumbling commands to the beast. All three of them instantly picked up their muskets.

"Who's there?" Thomas asked the darkness.

A hooded figure on a horse appeared. Sam recognized the black and white Palouse horse…it was his Uncle Phillip. His chest seized up with anxiety. He stood up.

"Phillip Feazel? Identify yourself," Sam said, gripping the musket tightly in his right hand.

"Tis I, Samuel…"

Immediately, Sam had terrible thoughts rushing through his head…why else would his uncle track him down on horseback? Something had happened to his grandmother, his niece, and then he nearly choked on that awful biscuit still in his mouth…something had happened to Quinn. He spit out the food and stepped up to Phillip's horse to hold the bit on the side of the horse's head.

"Phillip? Why have you come? Please tell us you do not carry bad news…"

"I do bring news for you," Phillip said, stepping down off his horse, leading him to a near tree to tie him up. He returned to the fire.

"Do you have enough for another?" he asked. Sam put some stew in a bowl and handed him a biscuit.

He took a bite of biscuit and spit it out. "Who made this hard tack? I damn near broke a tooth!"

"What news do you bring, Phillip?" Thomas asked him again.

Phillip cleared his throat. "Sam received a letter; Miss Quinn asked that I bring it to him."

Sam knew it had to be somewhat important for her to send his uncle with it.

"Then grandmother and Sarah…and Miss Quinn…are all okay?" Sam asked a bit hesitantly.

"Hmm? Oh yes…they are all fine and dandy," Phillip chuckled. "Especially Miss Quinn."

Sam did not like his tone of voice when speaking about Quinn. "Do you have the letter then?"

Phillip pulled it from his coat pocket and handed it to Sam. "I'm gonna bunk with you tonight, Sam."

Sam grunted a reply and moved closer to the fire to read the letter. He could tell from the writing on the front who it was from…his father.

_Samuel,_  
><em>I received your letters in early August 1817 and one more recently. Your letters reached us all in fine health, still on my farm in Stokes Cty. My farm continues to do well, mainly tobacco now. I am happy to learn of your success in the carpentry work. My wife and I will be attending your wedding in early January. We will be to the Feazel farm in late December. I look forward to seeing you son.<em>

_Your father,_  
><em>Aaron Evans<em>

_He called me son_, Sam thought, fighting tears. _He even wants to see me. No wonder Quinn sent this letter to me._

Phillip belched loudly, breaking the silence.

"Sam, your news? Is everything alright?" Thomas asked him.

"My father wrote me," Sam started. "I had written him to tell him about my upcoming wedding, and he wrote that him and his wife will be traveling to Franklin County to be present at it."

"Jolly good! I'd like to meet your father," Thomas said, slapping his knee. "Right now, I'm off to take a winter's nap!"

Sam folded the letter carefully and stood up.

"This way, Phillip," he said quietly, leading him to his wagon. He was thankful he had packed an extra quilt, at Quinn's insistence no less.

"Set up my bed…I need to go take a piss," Phillip said, wandering off toward a tree.

Sam sighed and crawled into the wagon to set up a second bed. Phillip returned shortly and made himself comfortable.

"Well, nephew, what did you think of your news?"

"I'm not sure what to think of it…" Sam replied.

"Grandmother is beside herself about seeing Aaron Evans again," Phillip told him. Sam sat back up.

"She's worried?"

"It's got her all worked up, that he's coming and bringing his new wife and invited himself to her home," Phillip said.

"Tell her not to worry; I'll ask Thomas to have him stay in one of the spare cabins on the Fabray farm," Sam said, thinking quickly.

"Fine. G'night nephew."

"G'night…" Sam said quietly. He didn't fall asleep for quite some time, thoughts of his father invading his mind, thoughts of his grandmother being upset, thoughts of Quinn.

_xxxxx_

Sam had a restless night, hardly sleeping at all, partly due to his uncle's snoring but mainly due to his worry about seeing his father soon. When he had left North Caroline with Elizabeth's family, it had not been on the best of terms with his father and his family. His father had been against Sam's marrying Elizabeth and had forbade him to leave North Carolina with her family. Sam tried to explain to his father how he felt about Elizabeth, but his father refused to listen. So, Sam packed his few belongings the night before the DeWitts left and slipped out of his father's house, rode his horse to the DeWitts, getting there at sunrise, deliberately disobeying his father. Since some time had passed between him leaving, Elizabeth's death, and Sam's returning to Virginia, he had hoped for a reconciliation with his father but had pretty much given up hope for anything like that after his father had not responded to his letter about Elizabeth's death.

"Is there anything to eat besides those God-awful biscuits?" Phillip mumbled, waking up in the cold morning air.

"They weren't that bad...better than nothing..." Sam replied, pulling on his boots to crawl out of the wagon and restart the fire if not already done. "We have apples and oats."

Phillip grumbled, also getting up.

Sam was standing next to the fire pit along with a sleepy Thomas and Peyton. Phillip joined them and nudged Sam.

"I forgot this last night; your pretty lass wanted you to have it," Phillip said, pulling Quinn's letter from another pocket. Sam looked at him, trying to decide if he should berate him or not for forgetting Quinn's letter the night before. Since he was his elder, he took the note silently and put it in his pocket to read privately. They quickly ate a light breakfast and began to get ready to go to the general store in Lynchburg.

"I guess I'll head back now..." Phillip said, hanging around.

"Wait just a minute..." Sam said, jogging off to his wagon. He scribbled a quick note to Quinn and folded it.

"Can you take this to Miss Quinn, please? Here's two dollars for your trouble, Uncle Phillip. Thank you," Sam said, handing him the note and the bills.

Phillip's mood instantly brightened upon seeing the money. "Sure thing, nephew. Y'all have safe travels the rest of the way."

Sam sat down and opened Quinn's letter to read it quickly before going into Lynchburg.

_Dearest Samuel,_  
><em>I am sure you have your father's letter by now. I made the decision to send Phillip to deliver it to you because I thought you would want to know. I hope this finds you all well. I had my mother read the letter, then we went to your grandmother's. If you are not back when your father arrives, then I will act on your behalf and invite him into my home. I did not want you to worry about this situation while we are apart. While you're away, it is as if I'm not whole...I'm missing such an important part of myself. I shall be praying for your safe travel and swift return.<em>

_Until we are together again,_  
><em>Quinn Amelia<em>

_xxxxx_

There was a knocking on the door at the Fabray's late in the evening. Quinn was in the sitting room with her mother and Martha and had not heard a horse or carriage arrive. Miranda picked up the musket they kept near as Quinn and Martha peeked out the front window.

"It's a man, mother," Quinn whispered. "He's alone."

Miranda took a deep breath and strode to the front door.

In her strongest voice, trying to speak evenly, she said, "Who's there?"

"Mr. Phillip Feazel, ma'am," he replied. Miranda looked at the trembling girls behind her and rolled her eyes. She set the musket in a nearby corner and opened the door.

"I need to deliver this to Miss Quinn Fabray, ma'am," he continued, holding Sam's note out.

"Did you find the men all well?" Martha asked.

"They were all fine, fed me well. They went into Lynchburg today and are probably now on the road to Richmond."

"Thank you, Mr. Feazel," Miranda said, pushing the door shut gently.

Quinn had opened Sam's letter as soon as it was handed to her and smiled as she read his words.

_Dearest Quinn Amelia,_  
><em>My choyce to take you as my bride becomes more 'n more clear e'vry day! I feel empty w'out you by my side. The nights are unbearably cold here but I dream of you and am most comfortable. I will be home b'fore Crissmas, you have my word.<em>

_I love you,_  
><em>Samuel<em>

_xxxxx_

The next week for Quinn was spent confined to her bed due to her monthly situation. Her mother brought her supper to her one chilly snowy night.

"Do you think papa and the boys are caught in this frightful weather?" Quinn asked her mother.

"If they are on the road from Lynchburg to Richmond, then yes, probably," Miranda said, sitting on the edge of Quinn's bed. "Have you completed your dress?"

"Nearly...I might add a ribbon around the waist...ma?" They were both looking at where Quinn had hung it up.

"Hmm?"

"When I marry Sam, I can't spend a week in bed anymore, right?"

"No, not when you're the mistress of his household. You'll need to fashion yourself a pair of pantalettes to hold the rags in place, Quinny."

Quinn sighed. "Are they like trousers? I need to see a pair to know how to make them, ma."

Miranda went to her bedchamber and returned with a couple pair. They had long legs, nearly ankle-length, and had a length of twine to use as a drawstring to keep them in place. "It's just easier to close the crotch of them," her mother told her. "Some women choose to leave it open but I never saw the sense in that."

"Can you bring me some muslin then so I can get started on making some?" Quinn asked. She figured that'd be a wonderful way to pass the time in her bedroom.

Her mother brought her white muslin and she spent the rest of the week making pantalettes, hoping she got pregnant right away with Sam.

_xxxxx_

Sam was traveling to Richmond while Quinn made pantalettes. They were battling cold and snow the entire week. Every night, in his wagon, he'd say grateful prayers for at least having the covered wagon to keep the elements out. This was the longest part of the trip and felt even longer due to the weather. They were rationing their meals at that point to make sure they had enough foodstuff to last them until they reached Richmond. Even though they were facing snow most days, it was a dusting, not accumulating, and did not hinder their travel too much. They arrived in Richmond on December 10.

Thomas immediately reserved them a room at the hotel they were accustomed to while Sam and Peyton stabled the horses and wagons.

When they returned to the hotel, they had hot baths drawn. Sam stripped out of his clothes quickly and into the hot steamy water, sinking down slowly. He rested his head on the back of the tub, letting the warmth relax his muscles. He took a rag and wrung it out over his head, getting his hair completely wet. Quinn entered his thoughts; he remembered the night she cleaned him when he returned from their last trip and how aroused he had been, simply by her touch. He had not allowed himself to recall that night because it had been something new for them, something he thought should be saved for marriage. Still, she had allowed his hand to slip up her leg to find her soft wet apex with his fingers. Thinking about it, he could almost feel her twitch on his lap, breath against his neck, moan in his ear. He slipped his hand under the water, not caring that Peyton was no more than five feet away from him, snoring in his tub. He wrapped his hand around his stiffened length and started stroking slowly, remembering how she had felt to his hand. She had been soft, wet, hot and whatever he had done caused her to react much like he did. He moved the foreskin up and over the head of his penis, recalling how she had done that with her hand that night. The thought that soon they'd share his bed intimately coursed through his mind, how it'd feel to be on top of her, between her legs, the moment when they became one, pushing into her heat with his cock...

He stroked himself hard a couple more times, exploding above the water in the tub, gasping at how intense it had been.

Peyton snored himself awake and glanced over at Sam, raising an eyebrow.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine..." Sam managed to mumble. He exhaled and let his head drop back again on the ledge of the tub. "I'm fine," he repeated, coming down from his orgasm.

_xxxxx_

The following morning, Thomas, Peyton, and Sam retrieved their wagons and went to the general store. They had the storehands unload the wagons while they looked through the store. They had planned on doing a little Christmas shopping there. They chose a rattle for Kate's baby and fabric for Patsy for her to make new dresses from. Sam chose a gift for Quinn that he thought she could wear at their wedding. They chose some food type gifts, such as coffee beans and cocoa powder and sugar, and also provisions for their return trip.

While Sam was in Richmond choosing a Christmas gift for Quinn, she was mopping the bedroom floor at the Conner household after the birth of their fourth child. It had been determined that Mrs. Conner had been experiencing false labor pains for quite some time. Martha was filling in for Kate due to Kate's condition and she was presently trying to change the bedclothes under Mrs. Conner. Quinn tried not to eavesdrop on the new parents but in the small confines of the bedchamber it was hard not to. Mr. Conner was holding the newborn close against his chest, cooing to it, while Mrs. Conner tried to rest amidst the rolling back and forth on her bed that Martha was putting her through. This birth had gone very smoothly. Mrs. Conner had had signs of labor for several days but once her fluids gushed from her she had bore the child within a matter of minutes. It happened quickly and Quinn had been at her grandmother's side with clean rags and saw enough to know what happened during birth. After all the yelling and pain and after the babe had been cleaned up by Quinn's mother, a sense of serenity had come over the room, the new parents murmuring quietly to the mewling infant while Quinn and Martha went about their chores quietly. The room felt full of love to Quinn and she hoped to have a similar experience when her time came.

After leaving the Conner residence, they were near Kate's cabin so stopped to visit her briefly.

"We were just at the Conners'. Their fourth child was healthy and hale," Miranda told her. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired a lot of the time; James has been helping as he's able," Kate said, forcing a smile. The dark circles under her eyes told another story though.

"Why don't I check you quickly, Catherine?" Granny Palmer said. "You do seem fatigued, pale."

"I'm fine Granny, really," Kate laughed. "If it'll make you all feel better, though..." She lie down on her bed and let her grandmother examine her quickly.

"Have you gained much weight, child?"

"Plenty of weight, grandmother, maybe 25-30 pounds?"

"Soon, you might need to curtail your chores here. It might be a good idea to stay at your father's home as your confinement nears the end. If you feel out of sorts in any way, send James for me quickly."

"Yes, Granny!" Kate said, laughing.

"James said the weather is ripe for a snowstorm, this morning as he left," Kate said nonchalantly. "He's working in Rocky Mount today."

"If the weather turns, then you must get to our house, Kate," Miranda said sternly.

"Yes mother!" Kate said, giggling.

The other four women went back to the Fabray residence. Quinn watched the sky intently as they drove along, looking at the white, gray, and sometimes black clouds to the south.

"I would suggest someone checking in on her daily now. I think she's too strong-willed to send Mr. Martin for anyone."

This worried Quinn, with thoughts of the Smithson stillbirth flooding her memory. She decided then it would be her personal task to visit Kate daily whether alone or with Martha or with her mother. She told her mother this, to which her mother agreed.

"Do you think Mr. Martin is correct, about a snow storm?" Quinn asked the other three.

"The wind feels right; there is moisture on the air...it very well could blow up," Granny Palmer said, licking her index finger and holding it up in the wind. "Moving up from the south, I'd say."

Quinn sighed, now worried about Sam, her father and brother.

_xxxxx_

After their visit to the Richmond general store, they were on the road again for home. It was December 11, so Sam was hopeful that he'd be home for Christmas like he had promised Quinn. The first couple days of travel passed by quickly. On the third day, however, they noticed a change in the wind and temperature and heavy snow began to fall. Thomas finally pulled the caravan of wagons over at an abandoned barn when the snow made the road impassable.

Inside the barn, they thankfully found hay and secured the doors and any open crevice to keep the cold and snow out. Then, they unhitched the horses and stabled them in the barn with them. The entire time they made their shelter, the wind whipped around the barn, so strong that sometimes the old boards would creak and groan. In the center of the barn, they got a fire started.

"Sounds awful out there," Peyton mumbled.

"I hope we're not stranded long...we'll need food soon," Sam said.

Later, in the firelight, Sam wrote in his journal: _Dec 14 Stranded in heavy snowfall. Still far from home, far from Quinn._

_xxxxx_

At the Fabray residence, they were snowed in, as well. James and Kate and Granny Palmer had all made it to the house before the weather became atrocious. Time was crawling, though, for Quinn, knowing Sam, her father, and brother were most probably stranded. Most of the days and evenings were spent in the sitting room. James had to take over all the male duties of the home, and he seemed to relish being "the man of the house." He got to dole out chores to Thomas, John, and Joseph and seemed to be in his element being the boss. The younger three boys didn't care for that at all.

Quinn chose a place next to a window, even though it was drafty there, wrapped in her shawl. She thought, maybe, just maybe, she'd hear the wagon again and Sam would be back in her arms. She knew it was a futile hope but if it wasn't she wanted to greet him as soon as he made it home. She worked her fingers over the bodice of her lavender gown, then on baby essentials for Kate, then mending.

"Quinny, you'll catch cold sitting there...please come next to the hearth," her mother implored of her.

Quinn looked at her. "I'm waiting on Samuel's return, I'm watching for him."

Her mother sat down next to her and pulled her into a hug, a very uncommon thing for Miranda Fabray to do.

"You know that those men are smart enough to find shelter, Quinn. Don't despair. Keep them in your prayers and know that they'll make it home soon," her mother said quietly.

Quinn nodded, looking back out the frosted glass pane at the drive, seeing only snow.

_xxxxx_

The door to the barn blew open, and Sam and Peyton trudged in, Sam carrying a rabbit by its feet and Peyton a badger by its feet.

"I see you boys procured us some supper!" Thomas said, jovially.

"Yes, pa, and you can clean it and cook it for us," Peyton said. "It's absolutely dismal out there!" Snow coated their hair and beards and coats and boots.

"Bring them here, then," Thomas told them. Sam helped him clean the meat from the bones while Peyton tended to the fire.

"When do you think we'll be able to travel again, Thomas?" Sam asked him.

"If the wind doesn't die down, I don't see us moving the wagons for 5-7 days...looks like an early blizzard blew up!"

Sam sighed. He knew that already from being out hunting: the snow was at least a foot deep and the wind was causing large drifts. He was thankful for the barn they had found but frustrated that he couldn't get moving to return to Quinn. While the rabbit meat fried, he wrote in his journal and then read his mother's Bible.

_Dec 15 Found shelter in a rundown barn. Caught a rabbit and badjer today. No progress with travel. Miss seeing Quinn._

_xxxxx_

The winds finally calmed and the snow stopped after five days. James and the younger boys had shoveled a path to the barns and were working on shoveling a trail to the road. The Fabray household was taking on a festive atmosphere in anticipation of the Christmas holiday. They were holding their annual party so there was a lot to clean and prepare beforehand, enough to keep Quinn's hands busy, not so much her head or her heart.

As Christmas Day neared, James and the three boys hung the red ribbons and collected pine boughs from the woods and, of course, the mistletoe. Quinn loved the scent of pine and the festive feel of the house, yet that year she missed Sam and her father and brother joining in with the preparations. Not only were they preparing for the Christmas get-together, but there were final details about Quinn's wedding to finalize plus getting ready for the first grandchild of the Fabray household. The entire house smelled of the bountiful food and confections and of course evergreen and everyone was in such a cheerful spirit. Quinn forced a smile for her family and extended members of the family arriving, though her thoughts were concentrated on Sam and his safe return.

On December 23, Phillip Feazel arrived on the Fabray doorstep, asking for Miss Quinn.

She came to the door. "Yes, Mr. Feazel?"

"I bring news of Samuel's father and his wife's arrival last eve," Phillip told her curtly.

"Oh, of course. We have a cabin ready for them. Can you bring them over or shall I have James Martin come for them?" she said.

"Send Mr. Martin. They're visitin' with Grandmother presently," he said.

"Fine. We'll be over within the hour," Quinn said, shutting the door. She found James and told him where they needed to go and then she went to her bedroom to change and prepare to meet Sam's father. She chose a very sedate gray cotton dress, braided her hair, and met James downstairs.

_xxxxx_

Thomas, Peyton, and Sam were finally on the road and had been for a couple days, slowly making their way toward Rocky Mount. Sam knew Christmas was nearing; he hoped to get there as soon as possible but was afraid Mother Nature spoiled his promise to Quinn. For the most part, travel wasn't too horrible in spots but in other places Sam and Peyton would have to dig a path for the wagons to pass. They went straight through Lynchburg, onto Bedford. They reached Bedford the morning of December 24.

"Thomas, I'm going to keep traveling, even through the night. I promised Quinn I'd be home by Christmas Day and I don't want to break my promise to her," Sam told him when they stopped for a quick break.

"Son, I understand your predicament, but Quinny'll understand about our weather woes, keeping you from her a day or so longer," Thomas told him, clapping his shoulder.

"No disrespect, sir, but I'd like to keep driving, with Peyton, to file my marriage bond in Rocky Mount and then get home," Sam said with a finality to his voice.

Thomas sighed again. There was no use in arguing with Sam. He had seen this determination before and wasn't about to fight it.

"Godspeed, son," Thomas said, resignedly.

"Thank you sir," Sam said politely, smiling a huge smile and running to get Peyton.

"We're going now!" he said to Peyton.

"Going? Now?" Peyton said with a mouthful of food. "Is pa going?"

"No, we're driving through the night. I need to stop in Rocky Mount and file our marriage bond and you're my surety...let's go!" Sam said, getting more excited by the minute.

Peyton groaned but got up and went to his wagon. They set off toward Rocky Mount.

_xxxxx_

James pulled the buckboard to a stop at the Feazels' farmhouse. Quinn sighed, seeing a plain covered wagon there. James came around to help her down from the buggy. She took his arm and walked up to the porch.

Grandmother Feazel opened the door to James and Quinn, smiling at Quinn.

"Welcome! Come in!" she said jovially, stepping aside to allow them into her home. Quinn stepped in first, followed by James. She saw a gentleman sitting on the settee who basically appeared to be an older Sam; a severe-looking woman sat to his right, hands clasped in her lap.

Grandmother Feazel stepped into the sitting room. "Aaron and Jane, this is Mr. James Martin and Miss Quinn Fabray."

Quinn did a quick curtsy, mumbling _how do you do_. The elder Evans nodded.

"My brother-in-law, Mr. Martin, has escorted me here on behalf of Samuel. He wishes to invite you to stay at the Fabray residence for our Christmas party and then our wedding. There is a cabin ready for you," she said quietly to the couple.

His father looked at his wife and nodded slightly.

"Thank you; we'd be much obliged," he said finally, standing up and offering his wife his hand. They followed James and Quinn outside and then to the Fabray's.

_xxxxx_

Back at the Fabray's, Quinn showed the Evans' into her home and introduced them to her family members present. Aaron seemed stiff and uncomfortable in the middle of the bustling happy family, as did his wife.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans, would you care for some coffee or tea?" Quinn asked them.

They glanced at one another again, communicating silently. "Yes, please, that'd be nice," Jane Evans replied in a meek voice.

Quinn led them through the house to the dining room and while they sat talking quietly with her mother Quinn put together a tray of coffee and hot tea and tiny cookies that had been made that morning. She set the tray down in front of their guests and they helped themselves.

"How were your travels?" Quinn asked, sitting down next to her mother, across from the Evans'.

"Difficult. A lot of snow," Aaron answered gruffly.

"We're afraid that Mr. Fabray, my son Peyton, and Sam were stranded on their return trip from Richmond, though they should be home soon," Miranda said.

"Sam promised me he'd be here on Christmas Day," Quinn added.

"Promises don't mean nothin' to Mother Nature," Aaron said, sipping his coffee.

"He gave me his word," Quinn retorted, holding Aaron's gaze.

Ignoring what she had just said, Aaron asked if Quinn could show him Sam's workshop.

"Certainly, sir," she said primly.

After their coffee and tea, Quinn and her mother donned their wraps and led the Evans' out the back door to the workshop. Inside, Aaron seemed in awe of Sam's handiwork. He picked up a picture frame and examined the detailed carving on it.

"And Thomas Fabray _sells_ the things that my son creates with wood?" Aaron asked Miranda. He looked at Jane in shock.

"He does, sir. There is a very high demand in Ro'noke, Bedford, Lynchburg, and Richmond for his woodwork," Miranda responded.

Aaron set the frame down and started toward the door, signaling he was ready to be shown to his cabin.

Quinn and her mother led them to their cabin. Quinn had had Martha light a fire there and make sure it was dust-free and all the essentials that the Evans' might need were handy. Quinn herself had put together a basket of fruits and bread and coffee and tea for them.

Martha had outdone herself in the cabin. Several lit lanterns were placed about the two rooms, the fireplace heated the entire space, a smell of cinnamon wafted through the air. She had even decorated a little with pine boughs and red ribbons. Quinn was impressed. Even Sam's father appeared impressed.

"Don't hesitate to let us know if you are in need of anything," Miranda said, smiling, walking out of the cabin.

"It has been a great pleasure to meet you both," Quinn said, curtsying. Then, Sam's father actually smiled and took her hand and kissed it. Quinn nearly fainted.

"It has been all our pleasure, Miss Quinn," he said softly.

_xxxxx_

Sam and Peyton arrived in Rocky Mount while the moon was high in the black night sky.

"It must be at least midnight, Sam," Peyton said. "We'll never find the constable."

A tavern appeared to be serving still. Sam rushed in there, asking the bartender where the court was or the constable or anyone who could sign and file the bond for him.

"Well, the court ain't done open in de' mid night, son," the man behind the makeshift bar told him. "I's reckon you's can find Judge Tipton tis home at dis hour."

"Tell me where to find him, then," Sam said, putting a dollar bill on the bar.

The man gave broken directions to Sam and Peyton, and they were off to find the man's home in the cold dark night. After several twists and turns and going in circles a couple times, Sam finally saw the lamp glow from a home about the size of Thomas Fabray's.

"There, up ahead," he called to Peyton who was following Sam.

Sam saw the primitive log fence and made out the two large oak trees and turned down the drive. Once Peyton stopped next to him in front of the home, they both climbed the steps to the front porch and Sam used the heavy cold brass knocker to knock loudly on the door.

Sam and Peyton stood there quietly, listening for any sound from the inside of the home. After a few seconds, Sam rapped again loudly.

"He's got to be here," Sam mumbled under his breath.

They heard a rustling behind the door, then a shuffling. The lock was opened and there stood a small man in his sleepwear, including a stocking cap, holding his lantern up to the two strangers. _He is no bigger than Joseph_, Sam thought, sucking in his breath.

"Judge Tipton?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"Yes? Who may I ask is calling at this ungodly hour?" the little man squeaked out.

"My name is Samuel Evans, sir, and I was wondering if I may file my marriage bond this eve," Sam said quickly.

Judge Tipton looked back and forth between Sam and Peyton, sighed, and let them enter his house. He shuffled down the main hall to a room on the right, lighting a second lantern from the one he carried.

"Mr. Evans, what brings you out at this hour of the night?" the judge asked him.

"I'm traveling back home and I promised my betrothed that I'd file this bond. I also promised her I'd be home tomorrow. The recent snowfall has terribly hampered our travel. She's only about 3 hours away now," Sam explained. He felt in his pockets, pulling out a piece of paper written and signed by Thomas Fabray. The judge had sat down at a grand desk and was shuffling papers and feather pens about.

"This is her father's signature, stating he has given his approval of our marriage, as she is only 17 years old," Sam said, handing the judge the paper.

The judge looked at it, his spectacles slipping down his nose. "Thomas Fabray, yes I've met him a time or two…two daughters, correct? You must be marrying the oldest one, I presume?"

"Yes, sir, Quinn Amelia is her name. I'm very anxious to return to her…this evening, sir," Sam said, standing at the desk, wringing his hat in his hands. Peyton had taken a seat in a chair, nearly asleep.

"And this man?" Judge Tipton said, waving a hand toward a drowsy Peyton.

"He is Peyton Fabray, eldest son of Thomas, acting as my surety," Sam explained.

"Very well…ah, here is the paper…I need your full name," the judge said, his pen poised in the air.

"Samuel Byrum Evans, sir," Sam said, eventually having to spell _Byrum_ for the judge.

"And your intended?"

"Quinn Amelia Fabray, sir."

The feather pen scratched across the parchment as the judge hand-wrote the entire bond.

_Know all men by these present, that we, Samuel Byrum Evans and Thomas Fabray (by way of letter and son Peyton), of Franklin County and State of Virginia, are held and firmly bound to James Patton Preston, Governor of said state, for the time being, and his successors, in the sum of seventy-five dollars, lawful money of said state, yet to be void, on any condition, that there is no lawful cause to obstruct the marriage of the said Samuel Byrum Evans and Quinn Amelia Fabray, of the said County, otherwise to remain in full force and virtue. Witness our hands and seals on this day, the 25th of December, 1817._

_Test._  
><em>Judge William P Tipton<em>

_Samuel Byrum Evans_  
><em>Peyton Fabray, surety<em>

All three men signed the document, Sam handed over seventy-five dollars, and the judge stamped it. Sam read it over quickly.

"It's already the 25th?" he asked. The judge glanced at the clock on the mantel.

"It has been Christmas Day now for 35 minutes," Judge Tipton said sleepily.

"I thank you very, very much," Sam said, smiling at the document then shaking Judge Tipton's hand. "Merry Christmas, sir!"

"You best get home to your girl, Mr. Evans," the judge said, yawning. "Congratulations and Merry Christmas, as well."

"Thank you, again, sir…c'mon Peyt, let's get home!" Sam said happily, grabbing Peyton's arm and yanking him up off the settee. Sam practically drug Peyton to their wagons and they were off into the night, heading home.

**A/N: I would've updated earlier today but had to don my IT hat and fix my computer. Whatever I did worked! :) Enjoy.  
><strong>


	17. Christmas

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 17-Christmas**

**Franklin County, Virginia, December 1817**

The evening of Christmas Eve, as the family and guests quieted down, they congregated in the sitting room, chatting quietly. Quinn had taken her window seat, wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders, and watched the drive. The night was clear and cold; she could see the moonlight illuminating the road at the edge of the property. She saw no covered wagon making its way to her, though. Her fingers worked the knitting furiously until she was just too tired to focus on it. The clock struck midnight. She knew it had been foolish to expect him home on Christmas Day due to the inclement weather, but she had held out hope. She knew in her heart, though, could _feel _it, he was on his way home to her.

"Come, sister, let's get some rest…big day tomorrow," Martha appeared at Quinn's elbow, resting her hand on her shoulder. "I was hoping they'd be home today too."

Quinn looked at her and smiled. "They'll be here soon, I'm sure."

Quinn put the baby dress down that she had been knitting and stood up, stretching. She bid goodnight to various still awake family members and made her way upstairs with Martha to their bedroom. She shut her door to retain the heat in the room, and they changed into their heavy woolen shifts, took their bedwarmers from the fireplace, and slid them under the layers of quilts. They were sharing Quinn's bed that evening due to the chill in the room.

They curled up under all the blankets, hands clasped over their breasts, whispering fervent prayers for their loved ones to be safe and to be home soon.

Martha took Quinn's hand in hers. "Merry Christmas, sister."

Quinn smiled in the darkness. "Merry Christmas," she whispered.

_xxxxx_

The voices from downstairs, footsteps up and down the stairs, and the chill in the room prompted Quinn's eyes open. Martha was still sleeping soundly next to her. Quinn glanced at her bedroom door, standing open.

_Hmmm…I know I closed that last night_, she thought offhandedly.

She threw the quilts off her quickly, expecting the cool air of the room, and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Her feet landed squarely on the sleeping figure of Sam Evans at her bedside.

He stirred when she stomped on him accidentally and then fully awakened when she squealed his name.

"Sam! Oh my! You're here! You're really here!"

He turned and sat up, smiling lopsidedly at her, his hair a mess. She couldn't resist him and fell into his arms. He began kissing her cheeks as she ran her hands all over him, convincing herself he really was there.

"Wait…you're in _here_! How did you know…?" she asked, sitting up from him.

"Your ma was still awake when Peyt and I got here; she said it was okay this one night," he said, blushing a little. Her mother had led him upstairs to Quinn's bedchamber and quietly set up his bedding next to her side of the bed. After Miranda left the room, Sam gazed at Quinn's sleeping figure and kissed her softly on the cheek before falling asleep himself. "Merry Christmas, my dear."

He pulled her into another giant hug and held her that way for as long as he could.

"Merry Christmas, Samuel," she whispered into his hair.

Finally, she sat up from him and situated herself in his lap, her arms draped around his neck, his arms encircling her waist.

"What time did you get here? I was up until midnight," she asked him quietly.

"I think about 3 o'clock; your ma was still awake then. I was in Rocky Mount at midnight, filing our marriage bond," he said, squeezing her closely to him, nuzzling her neck.

She had forgotten about the bond. She squealed again into his hair, making him laugh a little.

"It's official then? We can wed on the fifth?" she asked him.

"Yes ma'am…we are marrying on the fifth," he said, kissing her slowly on the lips, their first real kiss since she woke up and found him on her floor.

"I have missed you so…so…deeply, Sam," she whispered on his lips.

He couldn't respond for several minutes, too involved in her mouth on his, their tongues dancing together between them, soft moans being elicited from each other.

"You too, Quinn, I missed you badly," he mumbled finally. "I think I need a shave."

She giggled, running her hand over his full beard. "I love your whiskers!"

A stirring in Quinn's bed caused them to separate somewhat.

"Quinny, who are you talking to?" Martha asked groggily, sitting up, rubbing her eyes. She looked over and saw Quinn beaming from Sam's lap, both of them on the floor.

"Sam? You're home?" she asked.

"Yep…Peyt is in his old bedroom, he said," Sam told her. She squealed much like Quinn and jumped up to go find Peyton.

"Oh, we're alone," Quinn mumbled into his ear, sending shivers through his body.

He pulled her in close again, finding her lips against his.

"I've never seen where you sleep before," he said after more kissing and caressing.

"I suppose you're uncomfortable," she said, standing up and putting her robe on quickly. He stood up as well and walked over to the window, looking out at his cabin.

"You can see it from here, can't you?" he said, smiling at her. He turned back to the window and gasped.

He looked at her again. "He's here?" he asked quietly. "I just saw him and his wife walking toward the house!"

"Yes, he's here, Sam. He arrived the night before last and stayed at the Feazels. I brought him and Jane here yesterday," she told him.

He crossed the room to Quinn, grabbing her hands, legitimately nervous, trembling. "What shall I say to him, Quinn?"

"Just what you feel, Sam. Maybe you can find some time alone with him? I'll try to pry Jane away for a short bit," she giggled.

He embraced her. "Another reason why I love you so…oh-my-gosh…is that what I think it is?"

He let go of Quinn and strode over to where her lavender dress was hanging, nearly complete. He barely touched it.

She blushed. "It is, Sam."

He turned to look at her, smiling. "It's beautiful, Quinn, and will be much more beautiful when you wear it."

He came back to where his bedding was on her floor and folded it up quickly.

"I need to get downstairs quickly to greet my father. Will I see you soon?" he asked, pecking her on the cheek.

"You shall…I'll be down for breakfast shortly," she said quietly, gripping his hand and squeezing gently.

They shared another quick kiss and he was gone.

_xxxxx_

He slipped downstairs quickly, putting his bedroll on a bench in the foyer. He tried to smooth down his hair and straighten his clothing to the best of his ability before going into the dining room to see his father. It had been at least a year and a half since he had actually seen his father, and he was anxious about the meeting.

There was a lot of activity in the sitting room, singing, talking, laughter. The dining room was quiet, though. Sam stood at the doorway of the dining room, his father and stepmother standing at the buffet, their backs to him. He smoothed his hair once again, stroked his beard a bit, ran a hand swiftly over the front of his pants to adjust anything out of place there (he had been fully erect in Quinn's bedroom). He walked up behind his father.

"Pa?" he asked quietly.

His father turned sharply, taking Sam in, then _smiled_.

"Son," Aaron said, gripping Sam's upper arm. "So good to see you."

Sam was stunned, at a loss for words. Who was this man claiming to be Aaron Evans, usually stone-faced and cold toward his eldest son?

"Good to see you, as well," Sam mumbled, then to his stepmother he nodded and said her name. "How were your travels?"

His father chuckled a bit. "A lot like your travels, I presume." His father and Jane sat at the table and Sam poured a cup of coffee and sat down with them.

"The snow was pretty heavy, the winds high, but I got here like I said I would," Sam told them, sipping the strong coffee.

"That's right, your young lass said you had promised her you'd be home on Christmas Day and so you are," his father said. "Jane and I quite like her; she is an exquisite young lady, son."

Sam was somewhat taken aback by his father's slight change in personality. Just the fact that his father was referring to him as _son_, not _boy_, was shocking.

"Thank you, sir. I am quite taken with her," Sam said, blushing slightly, thinking of how she jumped into his lap in her room a few minutes beforehand.

"I received your letters, Sam. I've written down what I know about our family history for you; it's in the cabin. Jane and I are very pleased with the cabin. The Fabrays seem like fine people, the ones we've met thus far," Aaron said.

"Thank you, sir, for writing down the history. I'm anxious to read about it. I agree, the Fabrays are very fine folk. You met with grandmother, I presume?" Sam asked, hesitantly.

"Aye, I did, still a spry lady! I hadn't been in that house since...your birth," Aaron said, trailing off. "When did you get back, son?"

Just then, Quinn appeared at the doorway and caught Sam's eye.

"Good morning all," she said, smiling, standing at the doorway. Sam stood up and walked to her, chastely pecking her on the lips, wrapping his arm around her slim waist.

"Mistletoe," he whispered, and they both glanced up.

"Mistletoe," she replied, kissing him back.

She was wearing her dark green velvet dress, her hair swept back at the nape of her neck, a little color on her face, and looked lovely to him. "How did you find the cabin last evening, Mrs. Evans?" She walked to the buffet.

"Just fine, thank you very much," she replied.

"We very much appreciate the fine accommodations from your family. I'm anxious to meet your father," Aaron said.

"He should be arriving today or tomorrow," Sam said, sitting back down. Quinn poured herself some hot tea and chose a biscuit and sat down next to Sam.

They talked some about Sam's carpentry work and Sam offered to take his father to the workshop to talk to him more in detail there. Quinn asked Jane to accompany her to the sitting room with the others.

Alone with his father in the workshop, Sam began showing him pieces of furniture he made and the tools Thomas Fabray had provided him with.

"How is your farm doing, sir?" Sam asked him in a lull of carpentry talk.

"Call me pa, Sam," his father said. "The farm's fine. Your brother Amos is ailing, though."

Sam put down the awl he held. "Ailing? How so?"

"Consumption...Jane is caring for him now," Aaron said a bit morosely. Sam swallowed hard.

"How is Jane? And Robert?" Sam asked of his other step-siblings.

"Both are well. Jane is a mother now, for two years. Robert is going to college next spring," Aaron told him.

"Did Jane marry?"

"No, she has two bastard children," Aaron said, picking a length of oak.

"Oh. How bad off is Amos then?"

Aaron sighed. "The doctor said maybe 6 months, depending on whether it gets worse quickly or stays the same."

"I'll pray for him then," Sam said, recalling those kids when they were young and how Robert had had problems reading and spelling, now was going to college. His stepsister Jane's situation really did not surprise him; it did surprise him, though, that she had remained unmarried, apparently raising the children on her own and that his father seemed okay with it. But then, Sam remembered, those three kids could do no wrong in his father's eyes.

"I received word that your first wife had passed on," Aaron said quietly. "I wish I could've been there for you, son." He again gripped Sam's upper arm. Sam focused all his attention on the knife he used to carve intricate details.

"It was not an easy time for me," Sam finally responded, continuing to carve designs in a jewelry box he had designed before leaving on the Richmond trip.

"I had hoped you'd come talk to me before you left my farm," his father said quietly.

"I tried to; you shunned me...so I left with Liz and her family," Sam said simply. "They enjoyed my company." Sam knew that was a snide remark but it was wrong of his father to expect all to be fine between them just because he made the effort to attend his wedding. Sam remembered the day he went to his father to tell him he had asked for Elizabeth's hand in marriage and his father had _laughed _at him, saying he was still too much of a boy to be married. And the day Sam tried to tell him he was going to Kentucky; his father had waved him away, too busy rocking on his front porch, drinking whiskey, lost in his own thoughts.

"There's a lot about me you don't know, Sam," his father said. "I regret my actions when you came to live with me in '04. I want to try to make amends with you, son."

Sam held his breath, fighting tears and anger. Finally, he stood up, looked his father in the eye, and said, "There's more to making amends than calling me _son_." He left the workshop and went to his wagon, retrieved his belongings, and then walked to his cabin.

_xxxxx_

Inside the house, the ladies had congregated in the sitting room, discussing local gossip, family news, national topics, the weather.

"How is the climate where you live, Mrs. Evans? I hope to visit you there in the future," Quinn asked Jane.

"The climate is reasonable, I'd say, much like here. Aaron would like for Samuel to visit soon. Our youngest son has consumption and is not well," Jane said stoically. "He was too ill to make this trip. Seeing Samuel, though, meant a lot to Aaron, hence we are here."

"Oh, I am so sorry to hear that," Quinn said, taking Jane's hand in hers. "What is his name? I'll keep him in my prayers."

"Amos William," Jane said, eyes brimming with tears.

"Let's pray for him now, Jane," Quinn said quietly, and they bowed their heads together.

_xxxxx_

In his cabin, Sam sat at his table after starting a fire. His journal sat in front of him, unopened. He was mad, mad about his father's behavior then and how he was presently, mad that he was a widower, mad that his mother had died after his birth, mad that Quinn wasn't yet his wife, mad that he sat there alone.

He opened his journal and recorded the date and then sat there, still angry.

_Dec 25, 1817_

_I hate how I feel rite now. I am angry at my father. He has no rite to come to me now, after years of treating me with hatrid, and spect me to welcom him with open arms and forgive all his wrong-doins. Not sure I ever can._

_I am angry that Liz died. How dare she, 2 mths after we wed? I am angry with myself for not doing more and making her well._

_I am angry that my ma died soon after my birth. I live every day knowing I caused her demize and that is the reason my father hated me for so long. I should've died that day too._

_I am angry that I sit here alone, wallowing in self-pity and self-loathing. I am angry that my father caused it. I need Quinn's arms 'round me now, yet she is not here because we are not wed._

_I hate this anger._

He put his head down on his arms and cried.

_xxxxx_

Quinn accompanied Jane back to her cabin as she was going to rest before the night's party. They found Aaron there already.

"Sam is not with you?" Quinn asked him.

"I angered him; he left me in his workshop," Aaron answered.

"Angered him? Sam? Sam is never angry," Quinn said, incredulously.

"I'm not sure what Sam has told you about our strained relationship but I offered to make amends with him and he found it hostile," Aaron told her.

"I see," she said, not really understanding. "I shall speak with him."

She went to Sam's cabin, knocking lightly and then entering. "Sam?"

She saw him bent over his table and when he looked up at her, his face red and tearstained and puffy, she went to him quickly. He pulled her onto his lap and let her hold him. "Sam?"

"I'm sorry Quinn..."

"For what?"

"The state in which you found me...my father..." he muttered.

"I spoke with him just now," she said quietly, stroking his hair. "He said you were angry."

"Read this..." He handed her the journal. She had never read any of his journal entries before.

She looked at his words, his handwriting not the usual looping style of his letters to her but this in block style letters, the pencil pushed hard to the paper. She still sat on his lap as she read his angry words, feeling him breathe behind her. When she finished reading it, she set the journal on the table and turned to him, wrapping her arms around him, burying her face into his neck.

"I understand your pain, Sam," she mumbled. "Maybe it's time to let go of some of the anger. You didn't cause your mother's death or Elizabeth's. Your father directed his disenchantment upon you, wrongfully so, but he's here trying to right things with you. Maybe it's time, Sam."

"Do my words make you hate me?" he asked, holding her closer.

She sat up to look at his face, her hands on either side of his face making him look at her. His light brown beard was rough against her palms, and damp from the tears. "No, Sam...no..."

He ran a thumb over a tear streaking down her cheek and licked his lips. Her lips were parted and he pounced on them before thinking, just knowing he wanted her right then. They kissed passionately, making up for the month he had been gone, when he slipped an arm under knees and stood up, carrying her. Before she knew it, she was on his bed, and he was hovering over her, then his body pressed against hers, the entire time their lips not parting. She kept her hands on his shoulders, hearing him murmur her name and begin pressing his hips to her.

"Quinn...I've missed you so..." he whispered, leaning up a bit to run his palm over her breast. He groaned and said, "I need you..."

He kept pushing his hips at her mid section and she could feel his length, hard against her upper thigh. He lifted his hips and moved himself directly over her and pressed against her again, this time she could feel him between her legs, even through her skirts.

What felt like a thousand feelings were coursing through her mind and body all at the same time. She wanted him too, she was nervous, afraid, not ready, confused, she felt overheated, suddenly nauseous.

"Sam...Sam..." she whispered, pushing his upper body up off her.

"Yeah?" He looked down at her, his eyes dark, his cheeks red, out of breath. "Are you okay?"

"This isn't the right time, not this way...I'm sorry...not while you're angry. I want you to feel love when this happens," she said quietly, running her hand along his cheek.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew she was right. He wanted to feel anything at all, just not anger, but he knew that being intimate with her would not resolve his anger, only displace it for a short while. He pushed himself up and off her, lying right next to her.

"Just stay here with me please..." he said, kissing her softly.

"I will...I'm not going anywhere, Sam," she said.

They continued the kissing on his bed when her hand trailed down his shirt to the waist of his pants. She felt him, still rigid. "May I?" He nodded.

She undid his trousers and slipped her hand inside, finding him sweaty, hot, hard. He moaned when her hand met his flesh there. She began stroking him slowly, letting him lay back on his back and close his eyes, one of his arms wrapped around her, the other gripping the quilt. She kissed him about the face and found herself whispering in his ear, "Just let it go, Sam..._let go_..." He moaned and his free hand moved his shirt up, exposing his abdomen. He was pushing his hips up into her hand, thrusting strongly, until he exploded onto his belly.

"Oh my God, Quinn, fuck..." he stammered, then looked at her shocked. "I'm so sorry..."

"For what?" she said, still slowly stroking his length as he softened, looking at the white streaks of fluid on his stomach. She had watched it happen, the fluid shooting out of him, feeling his cock jerk in her grip.

"What I just said...that's filthy language," he said.

She looked at him confused. "Filthy language?"

"You've never heard that word?" Sam asked. _Of course she hasn't heard that word, fool! She's a lady!_ he thought.

"What word?"

"Ummm...it rhymes with duck but starts with an f." He wasn't about to say it again in her presence.

"Fuck?" she asked innocently. She sat up next to him and leaned over his belly, daintily sticking her tongue into his fluid. He could not have been more shocked, except for the fact she just said the word _fuck_ and now was licking his fluid off his belly.

She looked at him, noting the shocked expression. "I just wondered what it tasted like. So _fuck_, what does it mean?"

"Uh, well..." He cleared his throat. "I guess _relations_...I've never actually said it out loud...I heard the men on my father's farm say it and during the war."

Her eyes opened wide. "Oh...well then..." She got up off the bed and returned with a damp rag. She had cleaned off her hand and then cleaned off his belly.

"I kinda thought you needed that..." she said quietly.

"To be cleaned up?" he chuckled.

"No...the release..."

"Oh, yes, I did..." He moved to his side, facing her, his pants still undone and his penis hanging out. She couldn't help staring at it.

"Where does it go?" she asked finally.

"Back inside the skin," he said, lifting it up and pulling the foreskin back.

"Oh..." she mumbled. "It gets small..."

"Or, one could say it gets big..." He laughed a little and tucked himself back inside his trousers. "If you keep looking at it, it will get big again..."

They lay there for a few minutes, just staring at one another.

"I've missed this bed, with you in it," he said finally.

"I slept out here some nights; I can feel you here when you're gone."

"In two weeks, you'll be here for good...in my bed..." he said, kissing her.

After several minutes of kissing, she asked him, "What will you say to your father?"

"Well, first of all, my anger is diminished now. I'm not sure what to say to him. It'd be nice for him to tell me he doesn't blame me for my mother's death and never has. He should apologize for being such an ass when I was just a child. When I told him I had asked for Liz's hand, he _laughed_ at me, Quinn...said I was not man enough to be married. When I tried to tell him I was leaving, he wouldn't even listen to me for he was so drunk. While he treated his other three children like his children, he treated me like his servant, his slave, like I was nothing." Sam looked at Quinn for a moment. "I know what I want to ask him and then we'll see if he's serious about a reconciliation."

_xxxxx_

Quinn returned to the main house to begin preparing for the party that evening. She, Martha, and Kate had their baths in the summer kitchen. Sam came to the house, and she shaved him and trimmed his hair, then he returned to his cabin to bathe and dress for the party.

In his journal, he continued his entry from earlier in the day:

_Crissmas Day…I plan to speak to my father at the party t'night to see how far he is willing to go to amend our relashun-ship._

He dressed in his black suit, tucked Quinn's gift in his suit pocket, and left for the main house.

_xxxxx_

The mood was very festive that evening; everyone, it seemed, was in high spirits. Thomas had returned that afternoon and was happy to be amongst his family again. The food was plentiful, as was the drink, and someone was always at the piano playing a holiday tune. The furniture was pushed out of the way for dancing in the sitting room and people mingled throughout the house. To Quinn, it seemed there was laughter in every corner that evening.

When Sam's father and stepmother arrived, Quinn took Aaron by the elbow and led them to meet her father.

"Father, I'd like you to meet Sam's father, Mr. Aaron Evans, and his lovely wife, Jane," Quinn started.

"Welcome!" Thomas said in his usual jovial tone.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans, my father, Mr. Thomas Fabray," she finished.

The two men shook hands.

Sam entered the house from the rear and said hello to Patsy and Sugar working in the kitchen. He made his way into the dining room through a crowd of Fabray friends and family, saying hello to those he recognized and smiling at those he didn't. He finally overheard Quinn's voice; she was saying "...my father, Thomas Fabray." He approached her from behind, standing next to his father and stepmother. He easily slipped his arm around her waist.

"Sam! I didn't hear you come in!" Quinn said happily, pecking him on his smooth cheek. She had only nicked him a couple times with that shave. "I was just introducing your father and stepmother to papa."

"Merry Christmas, Thomas," Sam said to his future father-in-law. Then, looking at Aaron, he simply said, "Pa."

Aaron nodded at him and continued his conversation with Thomas.

Sam pulled Quinn aside, into the dining room, pouring her a glass of punch. She took a sip, scrunching up her nose. "They've already added the liquor."

Sam poured himself a cup and swigged it back. "You look so pretty tonight," he said to her, smiling.

"Thank you, Samuel, and you do look quite handsome with the shave and trim," she replied. His blue eyes shined. "I believe you owe me a dance."

"I believe I do, come," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the sitting room.

They moved in between the other couples already dancing and took their positions. They had last danced together at the Harvest Ball a month prior, but they were so well accustomed to one another they began moving together effortlessly. To him, she felt perfect in his arms and for awhile he got lost in that feeling. Eventually, he realized his father and stepmother were dancing, as well.

"I've decided to talk to him tonight," Sam told Quinn quietly. The music ended, and he led her to the hallway and they sat together on a bench there.

"Are you going to tell him about what you wrote about?" she asked.

He nodded. "I'm going to ask him to go somewhere with me to talk privately tomorrow."

"Well, tell him what you wrote and then you'll know that he knows how you feel, even if won't work with you to make things right. Hopefully, that will bring you peace," she said, grasping his hand. "I'm just so happy you're here."

"I'm happy to be back. You were on my mind constantly while I was away."

"When it got close to Christmas, at night I'd sit by a window watching the drive, waiting on you..." she said, scooting closer to him on the bench. "Some nights I could see the stars and I hoped you could too. Then, when the snow came, I just knew...I just knew you'd be caught in it."

"We found shelter in an abandoned barn, thank goodness," he said and told her about the few days there.

"Badger meat? How'd that taste?" she asked, making a face.

He laughed. "Like chicken."

"Now that you're home, guess what we get to do?" she asked, snuggling up to him.

"Hmm?" He thought if he died right then and there he'd die a happy man with her curled up against him.

"We get to get ready for our wedding!" she whispered to him. He squeezed her tightly, never wanting to let her go.

"That we do...I can't wait until January 5th," he replied.

"We'll have dancing, Patsy is making a fruitcake, we'll have punch...hmm, I guess I won't have flowers but that's okay..."

"I saw something in the forest last winter that maybe you could use for flowers...I'll show them to you tomorrow..." Sam said.

His father approached them from the sitting room.

"Samuel, may I speak to you?"

Sam and Quinn looked at one another. "I need to go check on Kate, Sam..." she said, standing up and going quickly to find her sister.

Aaron sat down next to Sam; Sam looked straight ahead, feeling his father's eyes bore a hole into him, it seemed. His father spoke first, after what seemed like an eternity.

"First of all, Sam, I'm sorry for upsetting you earlier today. I know there are years of discord between us, all of my doing. Tell me how to make that up to you...please."

Sam sighed and looked at him finally, shocked to see tears in his father's eyes.

"Will you go with me someplace tomorrow? It's someplace special to me," Sam asked him.

"Of course, anywhere son..."

"We'll go there after breakfast, just me and you," Sam said, standing up to go find Quinn.

He found her chatting with her sister and Martha in the sitting room, gathered around a small pine tree that had been chopped down and set up in the house. The pine scent was intoxicating, the candlelight serene, the piano music joyous.

"May I steal you away?" he whispered from behind her, placing his hand lightly on her hip. She leaned back into him, feeling him kiss her softly on her neck just behind her ear.

"You may..." she murmured, letting him lead her away. He took her to a small alcove under the staircase, the most private place he could find in the bustling atmosphere of the evening's party.

They sat facing one another, holding hands.

"First of all, Merry Christmas Quinn," he said quietly, leaning into her and kissing her, his lips lingering on hers.

"Merry Christmas Samuel," she whispered to him, kissing him back.

"I love you, Quinn, with all my heart. You've helped me so much this past year and have become my closest confidant. While in Richmond, I chose something for you to wear on our wedding day. I hope you like them," Sam told her, pulling the velvet pouch from his suit pocket and placing it in her hands.

At first, she was confused. They had their wedding bands chosen. Was he giving her her wedding ring that night? He held the candle closer to them so she could see what was in the pouch.

"Sam..." she mumbled, opening the soft pouch and pulling out the pair of dainty earrings. They had a pearl with a piece of faceted lavender glass dangling from them. She was speechless for a moment, turning them over in her palm, finally whispering, "They're lovely, Samuel."

"You like them?"

"I love them..."

He smiled, proud of himself for choosing a present for her that brought tears to her eyes. He kissed her on the cheek, then slowly kept kissing her until their lips met. He cupped her cheek with his hand and deepened the kiss, feeling her tongue gently playing with his, then her quiet moan against his lips. He felt the rise in his trousers so he broke the kiss, asking her to try the earrings on.

"Umm..." She had to regain her composure also; his kisses left her dizzy. She clipped both earrings on, and he held the candle up to see them better.

"Beautiful Quinn..." he mumbled.

"They're perfect, Sam. I'll have to give you your gift later; it's not quite finished yet," she said, looking at her hands in her lap.

"Quinn, I don't expect a gift...I like to give..." he said, using her own words against her.

"You've given me so much already," she said. "Your love. I couldn't ask for more."

He held both her hands again and gazed at her.

"Sometimes I'm a strong man, sometimes cold and scared, and sometimes I cry," he said quietly. "Forever, though, you will have my love."

"And you mine," she replied, embracing him.

They heard the piano begin again and decided to dance again. She took her present from him to her room, holding them up to her dress, admiring how perfect they would look on her wedding day. Back downstairs, she found him standing in the doorway to the sitting room, waiting on her. She walked up to him, but he made no move to lead her to dance.

"Mistletoe..." he said, glancing upward and then kissed her softly on the mouth. She returned the kiss, holding onto his shoulders and standing on her tiptoes.

They finally began dancing with the others, even changing partners now and again. At one point, Sam danced with his grandmother and his visiting niece Nancy Ann, daughter of his Aunt Nancy who helped raise him, who then later danced with Quinn's brother Joseph. Sam's uncle Phillip requested a dance with Quinn; he was sweaty, breathed too heavily on her, held her too close, and stomped her toes several times. She finally begged out of finishing the dance by telling him she felt faint.

Quinn was sitting, taking a break after her awful dance with Phillip, when Aaron approached her.

"May I have this dance, please?" he asked. She glanced around the room for Sam, saw him dancing with one of her much younger cousins.

"Certainly, sir," she said, taking his hand.

They began moving around the floor and finally is father spoke to her.

"How do I make amends with Samuel? Is it even possible?"

She bit her lip a little. "The rift between you two began with the demise of his mother unfortunately. That is where you begin."

They danced for awhile longer in silence until Aaron mumbled _thank you_ at the end of the song.

As the evening was winding down, most people found sleep to be the best option, the younger children especially. The young adults had paired off, and the older adults were sitting, chatting, in the candlelight with cups of hot chocolate. Sam and Quinn had found themselves back in the alcove under the staircase.

"I saw you dancing with my father. What'd he say?" Sam asked her.

"He wanted to know how to make amends with you and if it was even possible," she replied, holding his hand, tracing his knuckles and calluses.

She felt him inhale. "I see. We'll see tomorrow if he's willing to talk with me. I'll take you to the woods and show you the flowers, if they're still there, after I meet with him...if that's okay?"

"I'll be waiting...I'll also be praying for your strength when talking to your pa. I know where you're taking him," she said quietly.

"Do you think it's appropriate?"

She nodded. "Very much so...he _needs_ to go there."

Sam nodded too, pulling her closer. He kissed her and said, "I'll dream of you tonight, Quinn."

"I love you, Sam..." she whispered. She saw him to the back door and he left for his cabin.

_xxxxx_

_Dec 25, 1817 The Crissmas party was wonderfull. Quinn liked the earbobs to match her wedding gown. I speak with my father t'morrow morn. Only 11 days until we wed..._

Sam lay in bed in his long-johns thinking of what he wanted to say to his father. He didn't want to be disrespectful, but he considered himself a man and was not going to hold anything back, once and for all. He knew his father was hurting because of his young stepbrother with tuberculosis; he could see the pain in Aaron's eyes. He said a quick prayer for the boy and then allowed his thoughts to turn to Quinn.

He thought of how he had carried her to his bed earlier that day and had pressed his body against hers, wanting to push her skirts up and have his way with her. He knew she had been right though; his mind had been consumed with anger about his father and loss of his mother and first wife and bedding her then would have been wrong...it would not have been about him and Quinn coming together as one but a way to diffuse his anger with other thoughts on his mind, thoughts of everything but Quinn. He thought of how she had looked in the candlelight, the shiny earbobs dangling from her tiny ears, her eyes shining, her cheeks flushed. He finally worked his hand through an opening in the front of the long-johns, until his erection was out and in his hand. Stroking faster and faster, he let himself think of how their wedding night might go...how it would feel to him to finally sink into her, how would she react to his manhood pressing into her? The thought of her washing him, her lips on his nipple, how she brushed up against his penis, the wetness he had felt earlier with his fingers, how she had licked the fluid from his belly...took over everything in his mind and the fluid shot out of him as he arched his back and grunted through the orgasm. He stroked himself as it kept spilling from him, his hand covered in his own fluid until finally the stiffness began going away and the head of his penis slipped back inside the skin. He lay there, trying to calm his breathing. He decided there was no way he could predict how the first time would be with Quinn; it would be something he'd never forget, he was sure of that.

**A/N: Due to hateful reviews left on the last chapter by anonymous reviewers (reviews that had absolutely nothing to do with the story but were personal attacks on a fellow author), anonymous review has been turned off. Also, if you're so daring as to sign in and post vile statements regarding another author, _you will be reported without hesitation_. In fact, someone already has been reported. To those anonymous reviewers who left constructive criticism, I thank you for your time and thoughts regarding the story, to help me make it a better story. This is not a forum to attack another author or push your agenda. As always, if you don't like Fabrevans, then I question why you even read the story or maybe you should write your own story. I do appreciate reviews, good or bad, that relate to the chapter I've written. Again, if you write a review and only spew hate and do not review the chapter, you will be reported. And, FTR, Puckleberry is the most ludicrous ship out there and will never, ever happen.**


	18. Heart And Soul

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 18-Heart And Soul**

**Franklin County, Virginia, December 1817**

Sam worked in his workshop for a couple hours before Patsy rung the dinner bell for breakfast. He had been up before the sun, immediately thinking of the talk he was going to have with his father later in the day. He worked some in the barn first, then went to his workshop and worked hard there. He glanced at Quinn's bedroom window on the way to his workshop, wondering if she was dreaming of him.

The bell rang for breakfast, so he put down the chair leg he was carving, took off his apron, brushing wood chips off himself, and went to the house slowly.

In the kitchen, he found Quinn working with the other women, preparing a monstrous breakfast for the guests who were staying there. He smiled when he caught her eye; even with all the worry in his mind about his father she could still brighten his day. He went to the dining room and found a seat amongst extended family and friends. His father was already present. He looked at Aaron and nodded. He sat down and listened to the conversation already in progress.

"Martha and I had a lovely time last evening; it was so nice to dance a reel or two with her," Peyton was saying.

"Your wife plays the piano in such a lovely fashion," Aaron said to Thomas Fabray.

"Thank you, Aaron. She mastered it with no training at all," Thomas said.

"I saw you dance with Miss Nancy Ann," Sam said to Joseph.

"She's a very cordial girl. I'm glad she came last night," Joseph said, trying not to smile.

"Cordial, eh? Did you catch her under the mistletoe?" Sam asked, smiling. "Where were Miss Mary Highwood and Miss Francis Covington last evening?"

"Miss Mary and Miss Francis had other engagements to attend, Samuel! I was very happy to make the acquaintance of your niece, Nancy Ann. I found her very…very sweet," Joseph stammered.

Sam loved how Joseph was blushing over a young lady. "Kinda how I'm sweet on your sister?"

Joseph looked shocked. "I'm not ready to marry Miss Nancy Ann!" That garnered the attention of the other men at the table.

"Joseph and Nancy Ann, sitting in a tree…" Thomas Jr started.

"K-i-s-s-i-n-g!" finished John.

Just then, the womenfolk entered from the kitchen. "Really boys? Must you?" Miranda said, a bit flabbergasted with them. They all carried bowls of different foods: scrambled eggs, bacon, ham, bread, sliced oranges and apples, oatmeal. They set the bowls on the table, and the men served themselves as the ladies returned to the kitchen to prepare more food.

In a way, Sam missed having his meal with Quinn but also enjoyed the camaraderie of all the men at the table. This was usually when he heard all the male gossip and learned things about hunting and farming, and sometimes women.

"…she's been getting bunches of rags ready and when I asked her what for she said for after the baby comes…I'm not sure I want to know," James Martin was saying.

"You do know how the baby comes out, right?" Peyton asked him.

"I know…"

"She'll be lying-in for a month afterward too," Thomas Sr said.

James groaned.

The talk turned to planting in the spring and how Peyton had just missed shooting a 10-point buck early that morning.

The ladies returned from the kitchen and refilled all the bowls with fresh food if the men desired second helpings. All of the men except Sam and Aaron filled their plates again. They sat there and listened to the other men discuss Fabray Fine Goods and Sam's upcoming wedding, Sam commenting occasionally.

With breakfast finally finished, Sam stood up and looked at his father. Aaron stood up, as well, and followed Sam through the kitchen.

"If you don't mind, Sam, can we stop by my cabin first? I'd like to give you the written family history and something else," Aaron asked him.

"Sure," Sam said, pulling on his coat.

At Aaron's cabin, they walked in and Sam stood awkwardly while his father retrieved the paperwork for him.

"Son, do you have a suit for your wedding?" Aaron asked him.

Sam shook his head _no_. He had just planned on wearing his gray wool suit.

"Umm, well, I brought this for you, if you're interested…" his father said, stepping into the bedroom and returning with a formal black suit. "I wore it when I married your mother."

Sam was stunned.

He was stunned that his father still had the suit and was offering to let him wear it at his own wedding.

"It's really nothing special, just a morning coat, bow tie, the usual..." Aaron said, looking it over. "It might need alterations...you seem to be more muscular than I was then."

"Thank you, pa," Sam said, taking the suit from him. "Can I check the fit?"

"Of course..." Aaron stepped out of the way of the bedroom so Sam could change. As Sam pulled on the pants and shirt, then the coat, he thought of how his mother had once touched that very same material. She had surely been happy since it had been her wedding day. The pants fit as did the coat but he was going to have to use one of his own shirts because his muscles had bulked up since the harvest work.

"It'll do fine. Quinn has never seen me in tails before," Sam said, smiling.

"Very good then. Take it to your cabin and then take me to this special place..." his father said.

They walked to Sam's cabin and Sam hung the suit in his bedroom and placed the paperwork on his table.

"Thanks again, pa...it means a lot to me," Sam said. "I'll return it after it's washed after the wedding."

"No...keep it...maybe your son will wear it someday," Aaron said, gripping Sam's shoulder again. "Your cabin is well kept."

"Aye, Quinn helped a lot with curtains and such and the paintings..."

"These paintings were done by her?" Aaron asked, walking up to them to get a closer look.

"Yes, sir. She's a fine artist," Sam replied.

"Her initials carved in a tree?"

"The tree is still there, over by grandmother's. I carved those right before I came to live with you," Sam told him.

"You've known her that long?"

"The summer before I went to North Carolina...then I didn't see her again until September 1816," Sam said.

"And this is you working?"

"Yes, sir. She painted that for a project in her schooling," Sam explained.

"Did she complete her schooling?"

"Yes, sir, earlier this year."

"That has been a great regret of mine, son, that I held you out of school when you came to live with me. For that, I apologize," Aaron said, somewhat sadly.

"I learned my trade...that's all I need to know. Are you ready to go? It's a bit of a walk..." Sam said, pulling a scarf around his neck and putting on his work gloves.

"Aye, I'm ready," Aaron replied.

Sam led them out of his cabin and to the edge of the woods.

_xxxxx_

They walked through the woods using the trails from long ago. The creek was frozen over and Sam had found someone had added planks of wood to cross it at some point. He led them up the trail to the oak tree and stopped at it, showing his father Quinn's initials.

"Are you okay? Is it too cold?" Sam asked. "We can stop in at grandmother's to warm ourselves up."

"I'm fine," his father said, stoically.

"Fine..." Sam continued on until they were standing in front of his mother's grave. They stood there quietly, looking at her headstone.

"I never saw this...did her father carve it?" Aaron asked Sam.

"Yes, sir." They stood there quietly for some time, the cold wind whipping around them, snow spitting down.

"I never meant to blame you for her death. When it happened, I was in a...a state of shock...seeing her dead and holding you in my arms...I couldn't make peace with it then. This one thing she wanted more than anything..._you_...had caused her demise...I had to distance myself from you and her, from here..."

Sam was silent, staring at his mother's grave.

"I thought moving you to my home when you were 9 I could make peace with you then...then I saw you and you looked just like her...all those memories came back. I started drinking again when I saw you that day," his father said. "I thought when you left my house to go to Kentucky it would go away but it only got worse...I began to hate myself, for how I treated you, for never getting to know you. And then when I received your letter about Elizabeth I almost came to you...I knew how you felt. I loved your mother so much and when she was taken from us I ran too. Now, my son Amos is dying and I think that is God's way of punishing me for abandoning you."

Still, no words came to Sam.

"What do I need to do to gain back your trust, son? To gain back your love? If I lost you too, I do not think I could go on," Aaron said. He fell to his knees. "I'm sorry, Samuel, so sorry."

Sam dropped to his knees and embraced his father tightly. "No pa...God's not punishing you."

"I've missed so much of your life," his father said, crying. "I'm so sorry for blaming you for her death."

"I understand, pa, I do..." Sam answered, himself crying now.

Aaron leaned back from Sam, staring at him. "You look so much like her." He brushed his thumb over Sam's cheek where a tear had streaked down.

"You've never lost my love, pa, ever. I couldn't understand why you hated me so when I was a child...I didn't know what I had done to make you so distant," Sam said to him. "When I lost Liz, I began to gain an understanding of how you felt when you lost ma."

"I never hated you, Sam...I just couldn't understand why God would take her from me...my love for you has been buried deeply; it pains my heart to admit that to you," Aaron said, weeping.

"C'mon, pa, let's go into grandmother's and warm up. I'll read something to you from the Bible that was given to me when I asked God the same question," Sam said, drawing his arm across his face and helping his father stand up.

Standing, Aaron gripped Sam's arm. "Do you forgive me, son?"

"Yeah, pa, I do...c'mon..."

_xxxxx_

At Grandmother Feazel's house, Sam and Aaron sat at her kitchen table, drinking coffee, her old Bible lying open between them. When the two men had arrived at her home, she took one look at them, handed Aaron the Bible, poured them coffee, and left the room. Sam opened the Bible to Psalms and found the passage he had used so many times.

"I asked God what had I done to lose my mother and Liz; the preacher told me my heart needed to heal and to give God time," Sam said quietly.

"This is what I turned to often..." Aaron said, flipping pages carefully. "It was your mother's favorite passage."

He turned to Song of Solomon 8:6 and read: _Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame._

"When she died, it was as if the flame had died within me...all the passion I felt for her was squelched," Aaron said quietly. "I have never done anything so difficult as hand you over to your grandmother and leave her bedside that day."

"I wish I would've known her," Sam mumbled.

"You would've loved her...those 8 days she spent with you, I had never seen her more happy," Aaron said, smiling at the memory. "I look into your eyes and see her."

"Why didn't you write for me sooner?" Sam asked him.

Aaron sighed. "While you were young and living here, I was always nearby...I would see you out with your Aunt Nancy or Sugar...I saw you from a distance. I was too cowardly to come to the house. A lot of times I had been drinking. I visited my father once in Stokes County after watching you chase a butterfly in the dooryard...you were only 3 years old, toddling around, laughing. My heart was broken because I wasn't in your life. I fled to North Carolina and if it hadn't been for Jane saving me from drink I most assuredly would've drunk myself to death."

Sam was quiet, having never heard his father speak so bluntly before.

"Once my children with Jane began being born, we settled into a decent life and I finally felt I was ready to send for you, which I did. But seeing you brought it all back and I fell again into a dark humor, not knowing how to talk to you, or how to be your father...I turned to drink again."

"You laughed at me when I told you I had asked Liz to marry me..." Sam said, the thought of it still stinging.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I was a different person then..."

"When I tried to tell you I was leaving with her family, you wouldn't even let me finish my sentence..."

"The next day, when it was realized you were gone, I dumped what whiskey I had left and vowed to turn my life around, for myself and for you. I've come here to ask your forgiveness and witness you wed that lovely girl," Aaron said, wiping away tears.

"Are you saying the drink caused you to behave that way toward me?" Sam asked.

"No, son, I used the drink to drown the unending sadness. Jane was the one who told me it needed to stop the day after you left. She's saved me many times," Aaron said quietly.

"I do forgive you, pa. I'd like to get to know you better," Sam said to him.

"Are you two hashing things out?" Grandmother Feazel asked from the doorway. "Do you need more coffee?"

Aaron stood up. "I need to ask your forgiveness, as well, Miss Abigail. Elizabeth meant the world to me." He hugged Sam's grandmother tightly.

"She meant a lot to everyone, I dare say," Sam's grandmother said. "We're blessed that she lives on in Samuel."

"We are very blessed. I'd like to come visit you, Abigail, later this week with Jane if that is fine with you," Aaron asked her.

"Please come visit...we need to catch up and I'd like to talk more with Jane," Grandmother Feazel said. Sam stood up and she hugged him.

"You two gents skedaddle and get to know one another again!" she said, smiling.

"I'll see you soon, Abigail," Aaron said, following Sam out the door.

"I never have heard anyone call her by her given name," Sam said as they started through the woods.

"She always seemed to be fond of me, when I courted your mother, and once we married it just seemed right to call her Abigail," Aaron told him.

Sam was astonished at what he had learned that day about his mother and father. Once back at the cabins, his father again gripped his arm.

"Thank you, son, for allowing me to explain my behavior to you. I am not proud of it and I dearly hope we have made amends," Aaron said to him.

"I appreciate your forthrightness, pa, and today you have given me what I needed. Right now, I need to seek out Quinn as I promised to spend some time with her, but we'll have plenty of time b'fore the wedding to catch up," Sam said, hugging him quickly. "Amends have been made, pa."

Sam left his father at his cabin and turned toward the main house to find Quinn.

_xxxxx_

While Sam had been visiting with his father, Quinn had been working on his Christmas gift, which was going to double as a wedding gift. She and Kate had also been catching up with Anne Harter, who had arrived that morning, while David Harter and James Martin were off hunting. Quinn enjoyed hearing the two expectant women share tales of their confinement.

"I feel as big as Bessie," Kate bemoaned, referring to her favorite milk cow.

"Oh no, Kate! Bessie is tinier than you!" Quinn said, giggling, not able to resist the joke.

"Just you wait, dear sister! Your turn will be soon, I'm sure!" Kate said.

"I can't eat anything, nothing sounds appealing, not even Miranda's sweet potato pie!" Anne said, frowning. That pie was her holiday favorite.

"How was the travel here?" Quinn asked.

Anne groaned. "It took us 27 days and that was only stopping of an evening for rest. We do like the land of Indiana, though. Hopefully, you can come visit us someday."

"I'd very much like that…maybe the four of us can make the trip," Kate said. "Well, the _five_ of us!"

Sam walked into the sitting room, hearing the girls giggling.

"Quinn, you have a gentleman caller," Kate said quietly.

"Good afternoon, ladies. May I steal Quinn away for a bit?" he asked, smiling.

"You may," Kate and Anne answered in unison, giggling.

He offered Quinn his hand and took her to get her cloak. He draped it over her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her lips once he was assured they were alone.

"I have much to tell you, Miss Quinn," he said quietly. She took his hand and followed him outside and to the woods.

"How did your visit go with your father? Have you made amends?" she asked as they strode through the chilly air, crunching through the snow.

"We have! I have learned much about my father just today; he even told me about my mother!" Sam said, smiling.

Quinn stopped him and hugged him. "I'm so happy to hear that news, Samuel!"

"He apologized for how he felt after I was born. He said he used to watch me as a child and one day he saw me and it was too much for him and he fled to North Carolina. He said the hardest thing he's ever done is hand me over to grandmother and leave my mother's deathbed. He said he hated himself for how he felt and he feels God is punishing him now by taking his son Amos from him," Sam told her. He led her to a plant with red berries.

"Can you use these at our wedding?" he asked, pulling off a sprig of holly.

"Tis perfect, Sam," she said, pulling a few more sprigs and fashioning a small bouquet. "It'll look beautiful."

He pulled her close and kissed her. "Our day is near, Quinn."

"Mhmm…" she mumbled, letting him wrap his arms around her and envelope her in his warmth. She let him walk her backwards, and he gently pushed her up against a tree, deepening the kiss. Her hands landed on his hips, urging him to press against her rhythmically.

"We should probably head back…it's very cold…" he said, trying to stop what was happening. "Maybe you can slip out to my cabin?"

She nodded, biting her lip.

"What did you say to your father about God punishing him?" she asked as they walked back quickly.

"I told him I didn't think that was true at all. I told him I had forgiven him and understood how he felt when my mother died. He said he had never seen her happier than those eight days she had with me," Sam replied.

"Samuel, you have learned a great deal; I am so very happy for you," Quinn said, squeezing his hand. "Tomorrow, can you accompany me to visit the preacher?"

"Certainly…"

"After the noon meal…give me a few minutes and I'll join you at your cabin…" she whispered to him.

He walked her to the door of the house and kissed her on the cheek before returning to his cabin.

_xxxxx_

Quinn found Kate and Anne still conversing in the sitting room near the fire.

"Look sisters! Sam found this holly in the woods and suggested I carry it on our wedding day," Quinn told them. "I came back to retrieve a basket to go collect more…" She picked up a basket in the main hallway before they could question her more and left out the back door quickly.

At Sam's, he was waiting on her. He had started a fire to warm his cabin up and as soon as she blew in the door he latched it and she was in his arms. He pressed her up against the door, pulling her cloak and bonnet off, then led her to his bed.

They lay down together and breathlessly he asked, "Bolster?"

"No…"

They kept kissing one another, hands traveling all around, until he pulled her closer to him and she reached down between them to unfasten his trousers.

"I'm ready, Sam, so ready…" she whispered.

It took all his restraint but he mumbled, "Not this way, Quinn, not now…"

"Why Sam? You said I'd know…"

"I want it to happen, I do Quinn, you don't know how badly…just not today…we're not yet wed…I shouldn't've asked you out here today..."

She had worked her hand inside his pants and was stroking him slowly.

"What does it feel like?" she asked.

"Uh, I can't really…can't really explain it…" he mumbled, losing his focus with her hand on his penis.

"Show me then…"

He kissed her hard, working his hand up under her skirt to her bare hip, then to her warm center. He used his finger to explore her, slipping inside her slit, causing her to moan when he did.

"Open your legs a bit…" he mumbled. He guessed if she balked at that request then she truly wasn't ready. However, she lifted her knee up and rested it on his legs. He gulped.

He slid his finger down lower, finding her entrance. It was wet, so wet that finger slid inside her with hardly any pressure from him. He felt her suck in her breath.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked quietly. She shook her head _no_. It had felt strange to her to open her legs to allow him access, but she wanted to experience it. He moved his finger in and out of her slowly, then added a second finger, and she began moving her hips in response.

He realized her dress was pushed up to her hips and his cock was out, how easy it would be to roll over on top of her and just let it happen, but he wanted it to be special, hopefully their wedding night, but he wasn't sure he could hold out that long or she could hold out that long. He wanted to see her private area but was afraid to look. He was running out of time, anyway, her stroking had picked up and he was on edge.

"I'm gonna spill over…" he mumbled right before it happened.

She felt him jerk in her hand and grunt against her mouth, then her hand was covered in his hot fluid. His hand had stopped moving against her, so she moved her hand to his and used her finger on herself. Her breathing hitched against his mouth and her entire body tensed up. He felt her muscles clenching around his finger.

"Quinn…" he whispered.

"Sam…"

He moved his hand away from her and straightened her skirt back down.

"I need to get back to the house. They'll be wondering what took me so long in the woods…"

He chuckled. "In the woods?"

"I told them I was going to collect holly…" She laughed too.

"I should get to the workshop, I s'pose…" he said, sitting up.

She sat up, as well. "I'm sorry, Sam, for trying to push things…"

"Maybe, until we are wed, we shouldn't find ourselves alone anymore…" he said quietly.

"Perhaps…I love you so much though…" she said, reaching for his hand. He lifted her hand to his lips.

"Only ten more days, Quinn…"

She stood up and went around to where he sat on the edge of his bed. She placed her hands on his shoulders and looked his squarely in the eye, smiling.

"Only ten more days…" She kissed him quickly and went to grab her cloak, bonnet, and basket and left his cabin.

_xxxxx_

That evening after supper, Quinn quietly asked Anne to meet her in her bedroom. They slipped away upstairs to Quinn's bedchamber. Patsy had started a small fire in her fireplace so the room was cozy.

"Come, sister, I need to ask you something very important," Quinn said, crawling under her quilts. Anne crawled under the blankets as well.

"Have you felt the babe move yet?" Quinn asked, placing her hand on Anne's growing belly.

"I think I have…such a wonderful feeling," Anne replied.

"I'm sure it is. What I need to ask you is of a personal nature, something I can't ask mama or Granny or anyone else. I trust you," Quinn said to her.

"Of course, Quinn. Is everything okay?"

Quinn nodded. "When did you know it was the right time with Mr. Harter? For _relations_?"

Anne tried not to look surprised. "Well, it's hard to explain. You want the truth, right?" Quinn nodded. "We tried to wait until we wed, but it felt right beforehand. It felt right to share that with one another. Has it happened for you?"

"No! I fear it's close to happening though. Is there pain with it?"

"Discomfort, yes, but nothing incapacitating…"

"I think I'm going to go to him this eve…" Quinn said quietly.

Anne smiled warmly at her. "I understand how you feel; I've been there."

"I feel in my heart we are already man and wife…" Quinn said, smiling back.

_xxxxx_

Sam heated water for a bath. He was forever indebted to Thomas Fabray for finding a tub for him to have in his cabin. He hated being filthy and tried to bathe at least once a week.

From her bedroom window, Quinn could see the lamplight and smoke from the chimney at Sam's cabin. The house was quiet, so she pulled her cloak on over her shift and pulled on her boots and left her bedroom.

The tub was nearly half full, so Sam pulled off his boots and socks and shirt. He was nearly out of his pants when he heard the quiet knocking on his door. He refastened his trousers and answered the door to find a cloaked nervous-looking Quinn standing there.

"May I come in?" she asked when they both just stood there.

He stood back and opened the door to allow her entrance, then he shut the door and latched it.

"I was just getting ready to bathe," he said as she took her cloak off. His eyes traveled up and down her body, noting she was only wearing her shift.

"I'll help you with your bath," she said quietly, running her fingers down his chest and belly to his trousers. She unfastened them and pushed them down off him. She ran her hands over his back side to his hips, looking at his manhood hanging between his legs, flaccid. He stepped over to the bath and stepped into it slowly, the water still hot. She put a small cushion on the floor behind the tub so she could rest on her knees behind him. She took a rag, soaked it in the hot water, and wrung it out over his head. She did that a couple more times, getting his hair completely wet, then washed his face and behind his ears and the back of his neck.

"Lean forward," she whispered. He did so and she cleaned his back. She then washed from his shoulder down each arm and under each arm before starting on his chest. The front of her shift was soaked at that point; he could feel her breasts pressing up against his back underneath the wet thin fabric, her breath on his neck. By the time she reached his penis, he was hard and poking up out of the water. She worked the rag down to him there. Her lips grazed his ear when she whispered _I'm ready Sam_ and then she kissed his neck there. He closed his eyes and swallowed, leaning back into her kiss.

He turned around in the tub to look at her. He had never seen the look he saw that night in her eyes, a wanting, a _needing_…he stood up and out of the tub and she dried him off a bit with a towel. She realized he was staring at her chest; her shift was wet down to the waist. She felt him pulling it upward, then over her head. He hung it over a chair and gazed at her, standing naked in front of him. He finally ran his hands up her arms, pulling her into a kiss, their naked bodies next to one another.

"Quinn…" he mumbled, kissing down her neck. He knew there was no turning back as he held her naked body against his. He cradled her in his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck, and he carried her to his bed.

He laid her gently on the mattress, a stream of moonlight coming through his bedroom window, going across her body. He traced his finger over her breast, down her belly, to the soft patch of hair between her legs, watching her take nervous breaths. He lay down next to her, his leg between hers, his hard length against her thigh, kissing her softly.

"I don't mean to hurt you, Quinn, please remember that…" he said to her, moving his hips up and over her.

"I know, Sam…it's time…" she mumbled, spreading her legs for him.

He held himself up over her but dipped his hips to meet her middle. She gripped his shoulders, watching him. He reached between them to grip his cock and find her entrance. She felt his hand graze her thigh; he was trembling. He felt the wet heat and positioned himself.

He kissed her. "I love you Quinn, with all my heart and soul…"

He watched her as he pushed slowly against her, watching for any sign of pain. Suddenly, she lifted her hips and he slid into her, feeling the resistance and pushing through it. She gasped.

His weight on top of her was nearly suffocating, then suddenly he was filling her, and she felt pain. She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, hot tears streaming down the sides of her face.

It had been so long since he had felt such a sensation; he got lost in it for a moment, his face buried in the pillow next to her cheek, then realized the wetness on his cheek. He leaned up over her and saw the tears, her eyes closed tightly.

"Breathe Quinn…breathe through it…" he said quietly, realizing she was holding her breath.

She opened her eyes and looked at him and inhaled deeply. She felt like she was tearing in two, but she breathed through it, like he said, and the pain finally began to dissipate. He moved his hips slowly against her. She tentatively brought her knees up alongside him, still gripping his shoulders.

He kissed her gently. "I'm so sorry, Quinn…"

His lips trembled on hers. He glanced down between them, watching his movement against her, then looked back to her. To her, he had a look of shock, as if it had suddenly dawned on him what was happening. He tried to kiss her again but suddenly was overcome by the pleasure coursing through his body, his mouth open against hers, unable to actually kiss her.

His movement increased, and he grunted against her mouth, his eyes rolling back in his head as his seed exploded into her. He shuddered over her, unable to control his body's reaction.

Next to her ear, he whispered, "_Oh fuck, oh my God…_" when he came.

When he leaned up over her, he found her crying quietly again.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn, was the pain bad?"

She shook her head _no_. Then, she nodded. "It hurt…but we're of one flesh now…we're one, Samuel."

"Are you hurting now?" he asked, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

"No…" she whispered. He lifted his hips slowly from her, letting his cock fall out of her gently. She suddenly felt empty with him out of her.

He got up from his bed and retrieved the rag from his bath and brought it to her. He sat down next to her and moved the rag between her legs.

"You bled a little," he said to her. "I'm sorry…"

"The pain is gone now, Sam…let's sleep…"

He lie down next to her, pulling the quilts up around their naked bodies, and fell asleep.

Sometime later, Sam woke up next to her quiet sleeping body. He extricated himself and went to the front room, pulling on his long-johns in the process. He grabbed his journal from the fireplace mantel and sat at the table, looking at her shift draped on the other chair, seeing her sleeping peacefully in his bed.

_Dec 28 In my hart and soul, I am already merried to Quinn Amelia Fabray. We are of one flesh, now and forever._

He went back to bed and noticed she was awake, her eyes heavy lidded.

"You in the moonlight, with your sleepy eyes, could you ever love a man like me?" he asked her, the moonlight crossing her body at a different angle now.

"I have loved you forever, Samuel," she replied, pulling back the quilts so he could slide in next to her.

He did lie down next to her, wrapping her in his arms.

"We were meant to be, Quinn Amelia," he said quietly, kissing her on the cheek.

"Dream with me, Sam…" she whispered.

He closed his eyes and dozed off. The next morning, when he awoke, the first thing he saw was a mess of blonde hair on the pillow next to him.


	19. Vows

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 19-Vows**

**Franklin County, Virginia, December 1817/January 1818**

"Quinn," he whispered, grabbing her shoulder gently and shaking her awake. "Quinn…you need to get back to your house…"

She stirred awake, mumbling, then realized she was naked in his bed. She sat up suddenly, holding the quilt to her chest. She looked at Sam, her eyes open wide.

"Oh, I only wore my shift last night…how can I get past my mother and father?" she asked nervously.

He sat there mesmerized by her early morning beauty of just waking up.

"I'll go to the house first and make a scene so you can slip upstairs," he said.

He got up and grabbed her shift from the chair and brought it to her, averting his eyes as she dressed. He got himself dressed and told her the plan.

"I'm gonna let Bessie out and let her run down the drive, then I'll go in the house to alert the others, then you slip in the back door…" he told her.

She nodded and mumbled _okay_, hoping it worked.

"Wait here until you see me go into the house…" He kissed her on the mouth. "I love you Quinn…"

He left the cabin for the barn. She saw his journal laying open on the table and read the last entry and smiled. She still was sore from what happened the night before and thought she had bled some more. Thinking of it, though, she hardly recalled the pain, only his reaction to her body, his breathing, his moaning, his touch, his words, how is shoulders felt under her hands, how she cried when he first entered her and then cried later when she realized they were together finally as _one_. He had reminded her to breathe and apologized for hurting her, wiped the tears from her face.

From the door of his cabin, she saw the cow go running toward the front of the house and giggled. She then saw Sam stop at the back door, turn to wave at her, and he entered the house.

_xxxxx_

"Bessie's loose! I just saw her run up the drive!" Sam hollered as he entered the kitchen, moving toward the sitting room to see who was present.

Miranda and Thomas were sitting at the piano together. They looked at one another as the others got up and moved to the front of the house. Finally, Quinn's parents followed the others and Sam made sure to usher them out the front door, finally seeing Quinn slip upstairs quickly.

From the front porch, Sam watched Quinn's younger brothers chase down the "escaped" cow and herd her back to her stall.

"I wonder how that happened? Bessie's never got loose," John said, returning to the house.

"Looks like her gate was opened," Thomas Jr said, eyeballing Sam. "How'd you know she was loose so suddenly?"

"I saw her run up the drive as I approached the house!" Sam responded, hoping he wasn't caught.

"Hmm…interesting," John said.

Sam rolled his eyes, sighed, and left for his workshop.

_xxxxx_

Quinn slipped into the house undetected and ran up to her bedroom quickly. Her room was not empty, though. Anne sat in there, admiring Quinn's lavender dress.

"Is this your wedding dress?" Anne asked her, as Quinn took off her cloak, trying to cover herself in nothing but her shift. She pulled on her blue work dress lying on her bed.

"It tis…do you like it?" Quinn asked her.

"It's beautiful, Quinny. How was your evening?" Anne asked. She pulled Quinn to the bed and sat down with her, gripping her hands. "Did it happen?"

Quinn looked at her lap, blushing. She then nodded slightly.

"Oh, my dear Quinny, you are a woman now," Anne said, hugging her.

"The best part of it was waking up with him, even though I had to sneak back in here," Quinn said, giggling. "He said he considers us married already, in his heart…that's why it felt right for me. I cried, like a fool."

"You cried? Did it hurt that bad?"

"I cried because of the love we shared between us…" Quinn answered.

"Then it was the right time for you two…I'm happy for you, Quinny. It's such a special thing to share with your husband," Anne said.

"Thank you, Anne," Quinn said. "I need to start my chores."

"Try your dress on first!" Anne said, laughing.

"Okay, I shall!" Quinn stood up and retrieved her wedding dress to try on.

_xxxxx_

Sam and Quinn rode to the preacher's home after their noon meal. She sat on the far side of the bench of the buckboard, embarrassed to look at him. She gave him directions to Preacher Bennett's home. He kept stealing glances at her, knowing why she was avoiding him. Finally, he reached over and gripped her hand tightly.

"Quinn…look at me…" he said.

She glanced at him quickly, averting her gaze to the floorboard. "Yes?"

"What happened last night…it's okay…please don't feel that it happened wrongly…for me, it was the most right thing in the world," Sam said to her.

She slid over next to him slowly and curled into his side.

"I didn't mean to cry…" she said softly.

"Tis okay, Quinn," he replied, pecking her on the cheek.

At the preacher's home, Preacher Bennett wrote down information, including their names and certain biblical passages they wanted to use during their ceremony. He told them basically what would happen. Sam paid him five dollars and they returned to the Fabray farm.

"Tonight? Will you be there tonight?" Sam asked her before she ran into the house.

She bit her lip. "I better stay at home tonight, Sam…"

"Okay…I understand…I'll miss you though…"

He did miss her in his bed that evening, just wanting her presence next to him as he slept. He ran his hand over where she had slept and recalled what had happened between them. He had known, when he opened the door, that it would happen, that that was why she was there. He had been fighting it for so long and finally gave in to the feeling and felt she was ready too. Seeing her cry had nearly done him in, almost made him stop what was occurring. It had felt otherworldly to him, to finally be one with her, to share that with her. He hoped that soon it would become as enjoyable to her as it was to him. When he entered her, he felt surrounded by her love, his entire body, and even after it was done the feeling stayed with him. In the days afterward, it would wash over him and he'd feel compelled to seek her out and kiss her clandestinely, sharing their beautiful secret.

_xxxxx_

The next week, the Fabray household was busy preparing for Quinn and Sam's upcoming wedding. Thankfully, he had work to keep him busy while Quinn finalized wedding details. His father joined him most days in his workshop, watching him create his pieces of furniture. Aaron even taught him some techniques he knew of, old-fashioned type processes, that Sam was happy to learn. They shared memories, his father told him about his mother, Sam told his father about growing up at the Feazels, how he had met Quinn when he was 8 years old.

Quinn was busy packing a trunk of clothing to be taken to Sam's cabin. She had all his letters tied with a ribbon and tucked those in with the clothes. She also was having her easel taken to the cabin and a rocking chair. Her mother had given her staples for making simple meals in case they chose to eat there instead of at the main house, but her mother reiterated that they of course were still welcome to take their meals with the family. One evening after working in the workshop all day, Sam returned to the cabin and found her belongings there. He opened the trunk of clothing and saw his stack of letters right on top. He returned to the workshop, knowing what to make for her as a wedding gift.

His father saw the lamplight there and joined him that night.

"Is this something special, Sam? You're out here pretty late," his father said, watching him.

"It's for Quinn, on our wedding day," Sam answered.

"I'm sure she'll make you a fine wife. We've very much enjoyed our time here this week, Samuel."

"Tell me about you and ma, when you were married," Sam asked.

Aaron chuckled. "You are so much like her, son. She always wanted me to tell her a story. She said she liked the sound of my voice."

Sam looked up at his father and smiled.

"My pa was passing through Franklin County on his way to North Carolina and we stopped in Rocky Mount. I saw her first there with her pa. She was 15; I was 17. I convinced my pa to let me stay in Franklin County and found day work at the Bell farm. I befriended her brother Robert and met her through him. She was so…lively, wanted to know everything, was always learning and reading. She was also very, very pretty and had many suitors clamoring for her attention. Why she chose me I'll never know…"

"How did you decide to marry?"

"We were at a picnic and it was well known we were courting though her father was not completely in agreement. One of her old suitors approached her, trying to win her back. I remember that day so clearly, how she found me in the crowd and looked frightened. I saw him grab her arm and as I got closer to them I could hear him _yelling_ at her."

He paused then, remembering that day.

"I approached them and said _take your goddamned hands off her_. He asked who I presumed to be and I said her bridegroom. She looked at me shocked. We had not discussed marriage at all. I was then disowned from the meeting for using profane language."

"What'd Grandfather Feazel do?" Sam asked.

"He told me he didn't approve of my language but he did approve of me marrying Elizabeth…so two weeks later we were married by a Baptist preacher who came to the Feazels," Aaron said.

"Where did you live when you were first married?"

"I rented a small cabin just down the road from the Feazels. We can go there tomorrow, if you'd like," Aaron told him.

"I'd like that pa. Do you think Quinn will like this?" Sam asked, handing him the gift.

"Very much so, son. You are quite talented with your carving skills."

"Thank you, pa. T'morrow, I need to work here most of the day, so maybe after dinner we can go see your cabin?" Sam suggested.

"Very well. G'night, Samuel," Aaron said, gripping his arm before leaving the workshop.

_xxxxx_

The next day, Sam hitched the horses to Quinn's buckboard, and he, Quinn, and Aaron rode over to the small cabin where Sam's parents first lived. It was run down currently, no one living there. They managed to make their way to the front door after Sam shoveled a path for them and then entered it.

"I'm surprised the roof has held up," Aaron said, looking up. "We were very happy here."

There were just three rooms; he said one was used as Elizabeth's sewing room and was to be a nursery for their firstborn. An old table remained, and Aaron inspected it.

"They're still there…" he said, tracing a finger over initials carved in the corner: _AE + EE 1796_.

"The year I was born," Sam said quietly, also tracing a finger over the carving.

"We had been having an argument, over what your name would be of all things, and I carved our initials as we _discussed _it. When her time drew near, I drove her to Grandmother Feazel's because of the pain she had," Aaron said.

Sam swallowed, not sure he wanted to hear this part of his history.

"Why was she in pain?"

"We didn't know it until you were born but you were coming out feet first. The doctor was surprised you survived," Aaron told them. "Your mother bled to death. The doctor had to cut her to get you out. It was his doing; he didn't know how to sew her back up. It was never your fault, Sam."

"I'm so sorry, pa," Sam said quietly, hugging his father who had been reduced to tears at the memory.

"Sam, I nearly lost you _both_…I thank God that you are still in my life," Aaron said quietly.

"Shall we pray?" Quinn asked. She stepped up to Sam and Aaron and took their hands in hers. They bowed their heads.

_We thank thee, heav'nly Father,_  
><em>For ev'ry earthly good,<em>  
><em>For life, and health,<em>  
><em>For bringing Aaron and Elizabeth together.<em>

_We thank thee, heav'nly Father,_  
><em>For even though their time together on earth was far too short<em>  
><em>Their son was born.<em>  
><em>And someday, they will all be reunited in Heaven.<em>

_Amen._

Sam and Aaron mumbled _amen_, and Sam wrapped his arm tightly around Quinn, whispering _thank you_ to her.

_xxxxx_

Monday, January 5, arrived, cold and snowy, the sun peeking through the clouds at times. Sam and Quinn's wedding was to begin at 4 p.m. He was awake and in his workshop at 4 a.m. to get some work done before the ceremony and to calm his nerves. His father came to see him.

"I was nervous the day Elizabeth and I wed, shaking in my boots," Aaron said, laughing.

"I'm a little nervous, too. Well, a lot nervous I guess. I'm ready for her to be with me always," Sam said, smiling. "I barely slept last night."

"It was one of the happiest days of my life," Aaron said.

"Pa, would you be my witness today?" Sam asked him suddenly.

"You mean, stand up with you?" Aaron asked; Sam nodded. "I'd be honored, son."

_xxxxx_

Quinn woke up with the sun on her wedding day, being allowed to sleep in a bit. She had only slept a couple hours the night before anyway, lying awake most of that time thinking of her and Sam's relationship and their wedding and living in his cabin and being Mrs. Samuel Evans.

Anne and Miranda came into her room. "Happy wedding day, Quinny!"

Quinn pulled the quilts up to her chin, squealing.

"I have it on good authority that Mr. Evans has been in his workshop since _before_ sunup today!" Anne said, sitting on the edge of Quinn's bed. "Sister, I need to tell you some news." Miranda sat on Quinn's desk chair.

Quinn sat up, suddenly serious. "Is there trouble?"

"No, no, no trouble. When Mr. Harter and I return to Indiana, Granny Palmer is coming with us. She wishes to travel to the new state with us and I'll feel more comfortable having her with us when my time draws near," Anne told Quinn.

"What about Kate? Who will deliver her?"

"I've agreed to do so with your assistance," Miranda told Quinn.

"Okay," Quinn said, letting it sink in. "When are you leaving?"

Anne picked up Quinn's hand. "Tomorrow, dear."

"Oh…" Quinn said, tears welling up. "I'll miss you and Granny so."

They hugged one another. "I am thankful to be here to see you wed Mr. Evans."

"I am thankful for that too!" Quinn said, wiping away her tears. She had a feeling there'd be a lot of tears that day.

_xxxxx_

"We've been sent to see if you need anything before the wedding, Sam," Joseph told him. He and his twin brothers and Peyton crowded into Sam's cabin.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I can't think of anything."

"Liquor? We brought a little bourbon for you, just in case," Peyton said, pulling a small bottle from his pocket.

Sam laughed. "I'm fine, really. Maybe a little hungry…"

Joseph handed him a sandwich and cookies. "Your bride sent these for you."

Sam smiled. He was getting excited about seeing Quinn soon. He sat down and unwrapped the ham sandwich and nibbled on the cookies. Quinn's brothers sat down with him. John poured Sam a shot of bourbon and then each brother pulled a shot glass from his pocket and John poured shots for all of them.

"Tradition, Sam…you are becoming our brother," Peyton said, pushing the small glass to Sam.

"Fine…" Sam said, picking up the glass and throwing the liquor down his throat, grimacing at the strong taste. He felt the warmth drifting down to his belly.

"She also sent this…" Joseph said, pulling out a tin of cocoa. "She said she'd fancy some hot chocolate this evening." The boys laughed knowingly.

"I'm sure that's what Sam has on his mind for tonight…hot chocolate!" Thomas Jr said, sneering.

Sam smirked at the boys. _If only they knew_, he thought to himself.

He finished his sandwich and cookies and stood up. "Help me fill my tub…I need a bath."

The twins made faces; they hated baths. All four brothers fetched water to heat for Sam's bath.

_xxxxx_

Quinn took a bath in the summer kitchen. Kate had arrived and helped Martha wash Quinn's hair. They were in charge of doing her hair later so they took care of washing it.

"Are you excited, sister?" Kate asked her, sitting on a stool next to the tub, heavily pregnant.

"Mhmm…and nervous…did you hear the news about Granny Palmer?" Quinn asked her.

"Yes! I'll miss our dear granny. Mama decided James and I shall stay here soon, as my time draws near," Kate told her.

"That's a fine plan," Quinn said, closing her eyes as Martha worked some kind of hair lotion through her tresses. "What is it Martha? It smells heavenly."

"Some lotion to smooth your hair…yes, it does smell nice. Peyton brought it from Richmond for me," Martha told her. "Close your eyes, time to rinse."

Once her hair was rinsed and Martha held a towel around her head, Quinn looked at Kate.

"Catherine, I have something to ask you…"

"Yes, sister?" Kate said, taking a bite of a stolen cookie.

"I'd like you to be my witness today," Quinn said, smiling.

Kate's eyes got large. "Oh, Quinny, thank you so much, but I'm as big as a barn!"

"Please, sister…it'd mean so much to me," Quinn said, pouting.

Kate sighed and got up from her stool. She handed Quinn a towel so she could dry off from her bath.

"Yes, I'll do it…only for you though!" she laughed, handing Quinn her robe. "Let's go get you dressed for your wedding!"

_xxxxx_

Sam finally got Quinn's brothers to leave him alone so he could bathe in relative peace. He wondered if Quinn was getting ready and then decided that was a dumb thought, of course she was getting ready. He wondered how he'd feel when he saw her enter the sitting room on the arm of her father…would he feel any differently? He recalled his wedding day with Elizabeth…it had happened spontaneously since the preacher was only passing through. They were married in their work clothes and then took the rest of the day off from working. The next day, it was back to normal for them except she now slept with him. He wondered if she was happy for him; he hoped so. He could feel his mother's presence and was comforted by it. He finally felt she was at ease, maybe because he and his father had made amends.

He dried off from his bath and put on a fresh pair of long-johns and socks. He sat at his table to write down his thoughts before dressing.

_Jan 5, 1818 T'day, I wed Miss Quinn Amelia Fabray. To me, this is only the seremony where we exchange rings…I feel I've been merried to her for some time now. I thought of my mother t'day and of Liz and am at peace with my decision. I am on my way to take Quinn as my bride._

_xxxxx_

In her bedchamber, Quinn had lots of girls buzzing about, taking care of her every need. She sat at her desk in a new shift that she had made especially for her wedding day and her corset, still untied. Her mother was downstairs greeting guests, Patsy and Sugar attending to the food and drink, Kate and Martha fixing her hair, and Anne putting together her bouquet of holly.

There was a quiet knock at the door; one of Quinn's younger cousins opened it.

"This is for Quinny," she heard Joseph say. Her cousin brought her a folded note, her name written on the front in Sam's hand. She smiled.

_Dearest Quinn Amelia,_

_T'day is our day. I could not be happier than I am right now. When I see you later, though, my happiness shall grow hundred-fold. And t'night, when I hold you in my arms, my happiness shall be endless as is my love for you._

_Until t'night,_  
><em>Samuel Byrum<em>

"Oh Quinny! No tears!" Kate said, dabbing at Quinn's face with a hankie.

Quinn laughed a little. "There will be tears, you'll see."

With her hair finally dry, Kate and Martha used a hot iron roller to add waves and then began the arduous task of pinning it up and threading lavender ribbon through it. They pulled out tendrils alongside her face and held up a looking glass for her approval.

"Beautiful ladies, thank you," Quinn murmured.

She stood up and let Martha pull her corset as tight as possible.

"Eighteen inches, Quinn!" Martha exclaimed.

"I've lost an inch? Interesting…and I can still breathe!" The girls in her room giggled.

She stepped into three petticoats, nibbling her lip.

"Okay, time for your dress…" Anne said, taking it from where it had been hanging the past week. It took Anne and Martha to lift it up over Quinn's head and drape it down over her. She slipped her arms into the small caplet sleeves and adjusted her bosom to the neckline. One of the young girls began buttoning the back of her gown and then Kate finished the top buttons.

"You put so much work into this gown, Quinny…it's lovely," she whispered.

"Thank you…" The neckline curved to her bosom perfectly. She had worked diligently on the embroidery work on the bodice and added a simple purple ribbon to the waist. The back was fastened by a row of buttons, at least 50, and the skirt was pleated. She had even fashioned a pair of matching slippers, and her toe just barely peeped out from her skirts.

She powdered her face and decolletage and applied rouge to her lips and cheeks and purple color to her eyelids. She clipped on her new earrings from Sam, dabbed on some of her mother's French perfume, and took her bouquet from Anne. Sam's note was tucked inside the bouquet. The clock said 3:55 p.m.

"I think I'm ready," Quinn said, the slightest quiver to her voice.

_xxxxx_

After Sam wrote his journal entry, he went to his bedroom and put on his father's suit. He first put on his own white shirt, then the trousers, then the bow tie. He put on the jacket and buttoned the three buttons down the front. He pulled on his boots and ran his fingers through his hair. He was just about to open the door to his cabin when he remembered the rings, sitting on the mantel. He tucked that velvet pouch in his pocket and went to the door.

His father was waiting for him on the porch.

"I thought I'd walk with you to the house, Sam," his father said. "You look mighty handsome. I'm very proud of you, son."

"Thank you, father," Sam said, hugging him quickly. "I'm ready."

They walked quickly to the house, entering through the kitchen.

"Oh! Mista Evans! Ain't you da handsomest devil der ever was!" Patsy said upon seeing Sam. "Jes wait til you's sees Miss Quinny!"

Sam smiled, blushing, and thanked her. He moved slowly toward the sitting room where he could hear hushed talking and whispering, an occasional giggle. The clock on the mantel read 3:55 p.m.

He made his way to where Preacher Bennett was standing, hearing more whispers as his presence was made known to the guests.

Granny Palmer was at the piano and began playing the Wedding March when Sam and his father took their positions.

_xxxxx_

Upstairs, they heard the piano music begin softly. Only Kate was left with Quinn, the rest having gone downstairs and taken their seats.

"Oh Quinny! It's time! Take a deep breath, sister! Are you ready?" Kate was very talkative.

Quinn did take a deep breath, looked at Kate, and nodded.

"Okay, let's go…" Kate said quietly, going down the staircase first.

Quinn followed slowly so as not to trip on her gown and met her father at the bottom of the staircase. He smiled at her lovingly.

"My dear Quinn Amelia…you are a vision today," he said, pecking her on the cheek and then offering her his arm.

"Thank you, papa," she replied.

They turned toward the sitting room and made their way to the entrance.

_xxxxx_

Sam had been staring not where Quinn would make her entrance from but rather across the room, shaking in his boots as his father had said. When Granny Palmer began playing the Bridal Chorus, he must've visibly trembled because his father put his hand on his shoulder. His father leaned closer to him and whispered, "Look at your bride, son."

Sam's nerves had paralyzed him but upon hearing his father's voice, he turned his head and saw her. He instinctively smiled, locking his gaze with hers. He knew then, she was an angel on earth, _his _angel. His heart pounded as she made her way to him.

She stared at Sam until he finally looked at her. She had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from crying. She gripped her father's arm for support, and he covered her tiny hand with his.

Sam looked terrified, until he smiled at her and she smiled back. She had never seen him in the suit he had on; it fit him perfectly. He had never looked more handsome to her than at that moment. He stood there somewhat stiffly, his hands clasped together in front of him, and watched her make her entrance until she and her father stopped in front of the preacher.

"We are gathered here today in the face of this company, to join together Samuel Byrum Evans and Quinn Amelia in holy matrimony; which is an honorable and solemn estate and therefore is not to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly, but reverently and soberly. Into this estate these two persons present come now to be joined. If anyone can show just cause why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace. Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" Preacher Bennett began.

"I do," Thomas answered. He pecked her on the cheek again and placed her hand on Sam's arm. She handed her bouquet to Kate and smiled at Sam. He covered her hand that was gripping his arm and smiled back.

"Let us pray…" the preacher said, and the congregation bowed their heads.

_Lord, behold our family here assembled._  
><em>We thank you for this place in which we dwell,<em>  
><em>for the love that unites us,<em>  
><em>for the peace accorded us this day,<em>  
><em>for the hope with which we expect the morrow,<em>  
><em>for the health, the work, the food,<em>  
><em>and the bright skies that make our lives delightful;<em>  
><em>for our friends in all parts of the earth.<em>

_Amen._

"Samuel, repeat after me: _I, Samuel Byrum Evans, take thee, Quinn Amelia Fabray, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in __health__, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance."_

Sam slid Quinn's ring onto her ring finger slowly and then handed her his ring.

"Quinn, repeat after me: _I, Quin Amelia Fabray, take thee, Samuel Byrum Evans, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance."_

Quinn put Sam's ring on his finger, shaking slightly, then exhaled.

"May this couple be prepared to continue to give, be able to forgive and experience more and more joy with each passing day, with each passing year. Samuel and Quinn are now beginning their married life together; we hope that they may have loving assistance from their family, the constant support of friends, and a long life with good health and everlasting love. Insomuch as Samuel and Quinn have consented to live forever together in wedlock, and have witnessed the same before this company, having given and pledged their troth, each to the other, and having declared same by the giving and receiving of a ring, I pronounce that they are husband and wife."

Sam squeezed Quinn's hand; she gripped his arm even tighter.

"You may now seal the promises you have made with each other with a kiss."

They turned to face one another, Sam taking her other hand in his. A single tear slid down Quinn's cheek, yet she smiled. He leaned into her, their lips touching gently, his arm wrapping around her waist to hold her close for just a moment longer. His lips were warm, moist; she never wanted to break the kiss…it meant that much to her. He moaned softly against her lips and finally backed away from her, ever so slightly.

"I love you…" he whispered, a tear falling down his cheek.

"I love you Sam…" she replied.

"I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Byrum Evans," Preacher Bennett announced.

Sam and Quinn turned to face their family and friends, Granny Palmer began playing a recessional, Quinn took her holly bouquet from Kate, and holding onto Sam's arm left the sitting room.

_xxxxx_

In the main hallway of the Fabray residence, Sam pulled Quinn into a tight embrace.

"I'm so happy, Quinn…you are the prettiest girl I've ever known," he mumbled into her hair.

"Sam, I love you…I'm happy too! Your suit? You are the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes upon…"

"Pa gave it to me; he wore it at his wedding to my mother…do you like the tails?" Sam asked, smiling.

"It's perfect, Samuel. This day has been perfect…" she said, kissing him again quickly.

His father and Kate offered their congratulations with hugs, and they lined up to receive their guests. Later, Sam told Quinn privately that he had never shaken so many hands in his life, making her giggle. She agreed, though she had received numerous embraces. She showed him his note tucked in her bouquet. They gazed at one another's rings.

After the ceremony, a buffet type supper was served along with punch and the dancing commenced. Sam and Quinn danced first together, then took other partners, Sam with his grandmother and Quinn with her father. Grandmother Feazel told Sam he reminded her of his father many years ago on the day he wed Sam's mother. Sam then danced with Miranda Fabray.

"I am very happy that Quinn has chosen you as her mate. The love between you two is evident. Welcome to the family, Samuel," his new mother-in-law said.

"Thank you, Missus…uh, Miranda," he stammered.

Quinn then had to dance with Sam's father.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Evans, for helping me make amends with Samuel and for welcoming me into your home. Jane and I are happy that you are now a part of our family. We hope you'll visit us soon," Aaron said to her.

"Thank you, sir. We hope to visit you soon, as well," she said, moving to Sam's uncle Phillip who cut in.

"I would like to offer my congratulations, Miss Quinn, er, uh, Mrs. Evans," he mumbled.

"Thank you, Phillip," she said quietly, trying to find one redeeming quality about the man. He was still sweaty, still dancing too close to her, still stomping on her feet. He was trying to be polite though so she tried to look past the other unpleasantries. Luckily, Peyton cut in.

He whirled her around the room, making her laugh. When he finally slowed them down, he said, "I always knew it'd be you and Sam…even from way back when we played in the woods. I'm so happy for you, sister."

"Thank you, Peyton," she replied, hugging him tightly.

Sam was dancing with Nancy Ann Watson, his aunt Nancy's daughter. She would've attended, but she needed to stay home with her ill husband.

"Tell your mother I missed her company but I understand why she could not be here. She was the closest I had to a mother," Sam said to her.

"Sure, Sammy, I'll tell her. She has only happy stories to tell about you," Nancy Ann told him. Sam felt a light tapping on his shoulder. It was Joseph, asking to cut in.

"Certainly, sir," Sam said, winking at him.

Quinn took turns dancing with her twin brothers. For once, they acted like gentlemen, and Quinn was impressed.

Finally, Sam and Quinn met up again and danced together.

"I've missed you, Missus Evans," he said, kissing her cheek.

"How I've missed you, Mister Evans," she said, giggling. "My earbobs are perfect, Samuel. This has been the best day of my life!"

He hugged her tightly. "And one of the best days of my life…" he said quietly.

He led her to the dining room so they could find something to eat as the evening was getting late. They were stopped numerous times by guests, people they saw infrequently, to accept well wishes.

They put together plates of food, baked ham, sweet potatoes, green beans, biscuits, applesauce, and fruitcake. Sam took their plates while Quinn poured them cups of punch and she followed him to "their alcove."

"Mmm…I'm starving!" he mumbled, eating quickly.

"Me too…I'll need to let these stays out, though…" she said and then realized she just mentioned her underthings in front of him. He stopped mid-chew, staring at her, realizing _he_ got to undo her stays later that evening.

He cleared his throat and took a bite of biscuit.

"Did you make these?" he asked. "These are the best!"

She giggled. "I did make those…my contribution to today's party…they wouldn't allow me to do anything more."

While they ate their suppers, Kate, Martha, and Anne slipped away from the house and out to Sam's cabin. They had a surprise to put together for the newlyweds.

After finishing their meals, Sam and Quinn returned to the sitting room to begin saying their farewells as not only were they tired but they also were ready to be alone.

"I need to find Anne; they're leaving t'morrow morn and taking Granny Palmer with them!" Quinn told Sam, searching for her grandmother or Anne.

"Wait…your grandmother is going with them? To Indiana?" Sam asked.

Quinn nodded, still searching the crowd of people. Seeing David Harter, she pulled Sam with her to him.

"Mr. Harter, have you seen Anne? What time are you leaving in the morn?" Quinn asked, worried.

"Don't worry, miss, we'll be having breakfast here before we leave…she won't leave without saying farewell to you," David said, hugging Quinn. "Congratulations Quinny."

Sam and Quinn then found her grandmother.

Quinn hugged her tightly. "I'll miss you, Granny!"

"Don't cry, Quinny! You and Sam come visit us in Indiana. I'll definitely write you and Kate and your mama. I'll miss you terribly," her grandmother said, tearing up. Sam hugged the old woman also, having grown to think of her as another grandmother of his.

"Yes, Granny, I'll write you too," Quinn said, wiping away tears. "You'll be here for breakfast then?"

"Of course, child, I'll see you then," Granny said, kissing her on the cheek. "Congratulations, both of you."

Finally having made their rounds, Sam retrieved Quinn's cloak and draped it over her shoulders gently. The crowd followed them through the kitchen and out onto the patio behind the house, clapping and calling good wishes.

Sam looked at Quinn. "Ready?"

"Ready!" she said happily, taking his hand and letting him lead her to _their_ cabin.

**A/N: So sorry for the delay on this chapter! I got caught up in Enchantment and set this one aside. The next chapter for this story is more than half written so that's a plus! :) Hope you enjoyed this one!**


	20. Newlyweds

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 20-Newlyweds**

**Franklin County, Virginia, January 1818**

They walked briskly to their cabin, passing a giggling gaggle of girls on the way.

"Anne?" Quinn asked, stopping Sam.

The girls stopped and wrapped Quinn in hugs and chastely hugged Sam, still giggling. They didn't tarry long and left Sam and Quinn standing in the cold night air wondering what just happened.

At the cabin, they could see the girls had been up to something as they approached. There was light emanating from the windows, smoke coming from the chimney, and a scent of cinnamon and sugar on the wind.

They stepped up onto the porch.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Evans," he said quietly, pulling her to him. "Quinn, I'm so in love with you right now." They kissed, and he suddenly swept her off her feet, cradling her in his arms. He opened the door and pushed it open with his foot, carrying her in, and pushing the door shut with his foot.

They kissed again, and he set her down. He latched the door and they looked around the cabin. There were candles lit everywhere, a plate of cookies on their table, and a small stack of presents in the corner. The fire was blazing in the fireplace, warming the cabin.

"Oh my…" Quinn mumbled. She began to take off her cloak but Sam stopped her and unfastened it, hanging it on a hook by the door. He took off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair.

"Sit down, Quinn," he said quietly. She did so, and he knelt down in front of her and took her slippers off slowly, rubbing his hands over her bare feet. He stood up and took his boots off, setting them next to the door along with her slippers.

"About your stays," he asked deeply. "You can't sleep in those, can you?"

She shook her head _no_ and whispered the word, not taking her eyes off him.

He held out his hand to her. "Come…"

She followed him to the bed that now had all new bedclothes on it.

For the second time since entering her new home, Quinn uttered _oh my_.

They faced one another, not sure how to proceed. Finally, Quinn reached up and untied Sam's bowtie and pulled it from his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. She pulled his shirt out of his pants and up over his head. She began to take her new earrings off, but he stopped her hands.

"Leave them on…"

He turned her around slowly and began unbuttoning all her buttons, placing kisses along her upper back as he unbuttoned her dress. Once the last button was undone, he slid the dress off her shoulders and let it slip to the floor. He untied all three petticoats and then gently untied her corset, letting all that clothing fall in a pile on the floor. She stepped away from her clothes, only in her new shift, and turned around to face Sam again.

She unhooked the few fasteners on the upper part of his long-johns. She placed the palms of both hands on his chest, kissing him there, running her hands slowly over his nipples, feeling the ridges of his ribs and the definition of his muscles. Her thumbs rested over his bellybutton, at the waistband of his trousers, then her fingers ghosted over the bulge present in his trousers before she unfastened them. The pants slid down his legs and he stepped out of them, then out of his long-johns. He pulled her close to him, running his hands down her back to her back side, massaging her there. She looked up to kiss him, but he only stared at her. She unclipped her hair and let it fall loose about her shoulders; he could see the slim shiny ribbons in the firelight. He pulled her shift up slowly and over her head, dropping it with her dress on the floor. They stood there touching one another, the candlelight flickering over their bodies. He turned her around and pressed up against her, kissing the back of her neck, his hands moving over her breasts, down her flat belly, to her center. She could feel his manhood pressing against her, hot and throbbing with his pulse. She let her head fall back onto his shoulder, a moan escaping her lips as his hands moved farther down her body.

"You are my wife," he whispered behind her.

She sat down on the edge of their bed. "And you are my husband..."

She reached for his hand, and he leaned over her, pushing her back gently.

Now that she knew what to expect, she could relax somewhat. The soreness from the first time had subsided. He was still off to her side, nuzzling her neck. Her hands were again on his shoulders, and she decided to touch him more, first by moving down his muscular back to his back side. When her hands landed there, he groaned her name against her neck. She trembled underneath him and moved her hands up to his hair, bringing his lips to hers. Her hands on his scalp, running through his hair, was driving him mad. His breathing was coming in grunts when he moved his hips over her, using his knees to spread her legs open. He felt her heat against his cock, and she was whispering his name in her own labored breathing, her hips trying to meet his. He felt for her with his penis and finally slipped into her entrance slowly.

There was no pain that time, only the wonderful filled feeling she would forever associate with him. He pushed in fully and stopped, watching her. He pushed up on his arms and looked down at her, her blonde hair spread about the bed, her earrings glimmering, her eyes dark and staring back at him. Her hands were on his arms; she ran them down his chest to his belly and placed them on his hips. He saw her bite her lip, and he moved out slowly, then back in. She began to move slowly with him, sometimes watching his face, sometimes looking between them, watching his dark patch of hair connect with her own. She could see his penis moving in and out of her.

She watched him. Sometimes he'd glance down between them, then back to her. Sometimes he'd close his eyes and moan. He finally leaned down to her to kiss her. This time, she didn't feel smothered, she felt more like she was an active part in what was happening.

The motion between them began to get faster, him angling his hips different ways until he was grunting next to her. She heard him mumbling words and finally understood him saying _yes_ with each thrust.

"Sam, Sam..." she whispered. He pushed up and looked down at her. She ran her fingers through his hair again and his entire body shook over her, his eyes closed. She leaned up and her lips met his.

"God Quinn..." he mumbled against her mouth, his hips still thrusting into her. "Oh God..." He collapsed on top of her, still moving with her. His breath was hot on her shoulder; he was sweaty, still shaking a little.

His hips finally slowed down to barely moving against her. He kissed her cheek up to her lips, whispering her name. She felt him leave her body, but he stayed on top of her.

"Did it...did it hurt you again?" he said finally.

"No Sam..." she whispered. "It was perfect."

He kissed her again softly and moved off her. They lay on their sides, facing each other.

"I've never felt so loved," he told her, running a finger over the soft curve of her hip to her breast.

"I watched you this time..." she said quietly, running a finger along the curve of his jaw.

"I know...I watched you..." he replied.

"What did you see?" Her finger ran over his lips; they curved into a smile.

"I saw you happy and in love...what did you see?" he asked.

"I saw my husband, experiencing intense pleasure, exuding love..."

He ran a finger down the bridge of her nose, to her lips.

"Lovers forever, face to face..." she whispered to him.

"You're perfect, lying here, in this light...this is to never end..." he said to her. He found her left hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing her ring.

She slid closer to him, pressing against him, wanting their skin to touch.

"Again Samuel..." she mumbled into his kiss, rolling back and letting him take her for the second time that night.

_xxxxx_

They slept soundly through their wedding night. The sunrise woke them, tangled together, naked. The cabin was cool, the fire having died down hours before. When he opened his eyes, he was facing her back. He couldn't resist tracing his finger down her spine to where the quilt covered her hip. Her blonde hair was all over the pillow, ribbons of lavender still present. She stirred at his touch and rolled over to face him. He couldn't not gaze at her breasts, uncovered, and waiting for his eyes, his lips. She lay back and enjoyed his mouth on her. She could _feel_ him moan against her nipples and found her hips aching to meet his.

His lips moved down to her belly slowly, leaving kisses in his wake. She could feel his hair brushing against her skin and tried to get him to move away from where he was going.

"Sam..." she whispered. He looked up at her, his lips right over her bellybutton.

"Shall I stop?" he asked her.

"No...I don't know...no..." she mumbled, not sure what was about to happen. He wasn't completely sure either, just knew he wanted to be closer to her, even closer than they had been the night before. He wanted to explore her body more; he wanted more of her. He placed his lips on her skin between her bellybutton and the mound of hair and heard her whimper.

The hair there was soft and brown, unlike his darker, more coarse hair. He ran his finger through it, then down her slit, finding her wet. He felt her open her knees slightly and he took that as a sign she wanted more too. He gazed at her center, her private area that brought him nearly unbearable pleasure. He gently ran his finger against her again, and her hips responded, nearly meeting his lips.

"Sam...Sam...I can feel...feel your breath...on me..." she gasped from above him. Her hands were fisting the quilt already.

He wasn't sure what to do next. He wanted to see her. He opened her lips there and saw pink wet flesh, swollen. Without thinking anymore, he kissed her there.

"Ohhh! Sam!" She didn't know what to expect either and when she felt his lips on her extremely tender flesh there she nearly went through the roof.

He immediately was up over her. "Did I hurt you?"

She grasped the sides of his face and brought his lips to her, tasting what she thought was herself on his mouth.

"No...no...I just didn't...expect it..." she choked out.

Before either of them realized it, he had pushed into her, groaning. He moved hard and fast, grabbing her hip to move her with him. The rhythmic pressure against her made her arch her back into him, urging him to move faster against her. The warm heat filled her low belly, her center, and then it went through her...an almost excruciating pleasure, causing her to lose control of her voice, of her body. She could hear herself moaning his name over and over, her breathing labored, then he lost control.

"Quinn..." he grunted. "It's happening..."

He slammed his body into hers, pushing up over her. She watched his abdominal muscles contract as he grunted through his pleasure. She could feel him inside her, spilling over. He slowed down and moved down over her gently.

Once his breathing had returned to nearly normal, he asked, "Did it happen for you too?"

She nodded against his shoulder. "I never knew I could feel so much love, Samuel..."

It had brought her to tears again.

He kissed the tears off her face, pulling out of her.

"I don't like to do that..." he mumbled.

She looked at him quizzically.

"Leave your body..." he answered. "We're one."

He reached for his long-johns and her shift on the floor and rolled over to his side of the bed. She lay there as he dressed, basking in the post orgasmic feeling. He smiled at her as he got up; he wasn't going to force her out of bed to start their day. She heard him pull on his boots and step out on the front porch, presumably to empty his bladder. She pulled her shift on and began taking the ribbons out of her hair. She realized she still had her earrings on. She went ahead and removed those also. The day after their wedding was a work day for them, no wedding trip was planned. They would not start work, though, until after breakfast when many of the guests were leaving. She crawled out of bed and went to her trunk and pulled on a black work dress, admiring her wedding ring in the sunlight for a moment. She brushed her hair out and braided it quickly, twisting it into a bun. She went to the fireplace to start a fire for them.

When Sam returned from the front porch, he pulled on trousers and a work shirt. She sat at the table waiting on him. He came from the bedroom and sat down with her, placing his journal in front of him.

"This...this is for you, for us..." she said, taking the gift from her lap and placing it on the table.

He looked at her. "I told you, I didn't want anything. You gave me everything yesterday."

"Just open it, silly!"

He slowly opened the brown paper and found a white piece of fabric, much like what she had bought to make Kate's tablecloth.

"It's for our table..." she said quietly. He found the stitching at the corner, _Samuel and Quinn Evans, January 5, 1818_.

"It's beautiful, thank you," he said, standing up and placing the tablecloth over the table. He went to the bedroom and returned carrying a box.

"For you...for our wedding..." he told her, setting it in front of her. The box was large enough to fit his letters he had written to her and any other special things she deemed fit to put in it. He had carved her new initials on the top and the year. The inside was covered in lavender satin.

"I asked your ma for a scrap from your dress... and look..." He turned the box around and at a corner where the two sides met he had carved what he thought a fairy looked like. "You finally found your fairy, Quinn."

"Samuel..." She went to him and curled up on his lap, smothering him in kisses. "I can't cry anymore..."

He laughed a little. "Don't cry...I want to see you smile..."

She stood up and retrieved all his letters and her earrings and placed them in her box and set it on the mantel.

He opened his journal and entered: _Jan 6, 1818 T'day, I begin life anew with Quinn, my wife._

"Breakfast?" she asked him. She had been dreading this part of the day.

He nodded. "We better get to the house..." He dreaded it, as well. They were saying goodbye to many of their loved ones that day.

_xxxxx_

At the back door of the main house, he squeezed her hand.

"We must be strong, Quinn Amelia. We'll see them all again," he told her, watching her bottom lip quiver. He kissed her; he couldn't stand to see her on the brink of tears.

"Yes, Sam. We will..."

They could hear laughter from inside the house and much chatter so they assumed the atmosphere wasn't that morose. He led her into the kitchen.

"Ah! Look who da cat drugged in! The newly wedded!" Patsy shrieked. That drew the attention of those in the dining room, and they rushed into the kitchen.

"Did you enjoy the cookies?" Kate asked Quinn.

"I'm sure they ate the cookies right away, dear Kate!" Martha said, laughing.

Quinn watched Sam be pulled away by her brothers and James Martin.

"So, how were the _cookies_?" James asked him, snickering.

Sam looked at him, understanding what he was implying. "_Grand_, Mr. Martin. The cookies were _grand_."

"Oh! I see! Maybe you should partake in _cookies_ ev'ry night, much like your brother Peyton!" James laughed. "We're going hunting after the meal, will you be joining us?"

"I shall," Sam replied. Now that he was married and they planned to take their meals in the cabin he'd have to provide something to be cooked.

In the kitchen, Kate asked Quinn if she missed sleeping in her old bedroom. Of course, Quinn had rarely been sleeping there the past couple months.

"I missed it terribly," Quinn said, exaggerating her sorrow.

"The twins were fighting over who got your room, but papa gave it to Joseph!" Kate informed her. Quinn giggled. She donned her apron and began helping put together the breakfast meal. She was working alongside Anne at the iron stove, grease from the bacon popping in hot sparks above the pan she was trying to handle while Anne scrambled eggs.

"Dear Anne, this shall be the last time I cook with you," Quinn said, nudging her.

"In a way, I'm glad Quinny, with the way you're letting that bacon pop!" They laughed.

Quietly, Anne asked her, "How was last night?"

Quinn smiled, blushed. "Enjoyable...as was this morn."

Anne squealed a tiny bit. "I see...I expect news soon then..."

"News of what, sister?"

"Your firstborn..." Anne hugged her quickly and put her eggs in a bowl and handed Quinn a platter for the bacon. They took the food to the dining room for the men.

_xxxxx_

Breakfast was a lively affair. Once the men were served, the ladies pulled up chairs and ate with them since it was more of a farewell type meal. What Quinn would remember from it was lots of laughter and smiles. David Harter explained the route they took to Indiana, just in case anyone ever felt like visiting. Thomas made him write down the directions before they loaded up their final belongings. Sam thought that was a good idea and asked Aaron to do the same with directions to his farm in North Carolina.

The men loaded the wagons, two going to Indiana and one going to North Carolina, while the women prepared food to go with the travelers. Sam helped Aaron load his wagon.

"We have had a wonderful time, Samuel. It meant so much to me to spend this time with you, to stand up with you at your wedding. You have made me proud, son," Aaron said to him.

"This time with you has meant much to me, as well, pa. I had always hoped we'd make amends, and I'm pleased and thankful that we have. Quinn and I will keep Amos William in our fervent prayers, of course. We hope to visit your farm in the near future. I'll write you soon," Sam said, hugging his father. "Thank you, pa."

Sam walked up to his stepmother and hugged her. "Thank you for visiting, Jane. Quinn and I will be praying for Amos William."

She nodded and Aaron helped her up onto the wagon bench. He turned back to Sam.

"I love you, son," Aaron said quietly, hugging him quickly once more before climbing up onto the wagon.

"I love you too, pa," Sam said. He let go of his father and stepped back from the wagon.

Quinn came running around with two pails. "Aaron! Wait!"

She climbed up to the wagon bench and hugged Aaron tightly.

"It has been a pleasure, sir, getting to know you," she said to him, smiling.

"You as well, miss," Aaron said. "You have a fine family. I spoke with your father last night, long into the night."

Quinn hopped down and ran around to Jane's side of the wagon and climbed up to her. She hugged the tired-appearing woman.

"Mrs. Evans…I will be thinking of you and praying for your strength," Quinn whispered to her.

Jane managed a smile. "Write us with any news you and Sam may have; Aaron is anxious for more grandchildren."

Quinn smiled. "We'll be sure to."

Sam helped Quinn down from the wagon, and Aaron snapped the reins, urging the wagon forward. Sam and Quinn stood there watching the wagon make its way down the drive. He held her tight, trying not to cry. Thankfully, he had more work to do to take his mind off watching his father leave, loading the other wagons.

The Harters and Granny Palmer were taking two wagons. Some of her belongings Granny Palmer had given to Miranda, Peyton, Quinn, and Kate. To Sam and Quinn, she had given a quilt and cast iron skillet. She had split up some chinaware between the ladies and given Miranda some of her best furniture.

The family gathered at the wagons to wish them well. Quinn hugged David Harter quickly, moving to Anne and her grandmother.

"Please try to write us on your way to Indiana and, of course, when you get to Indiana! I'm going to miss you both so, so much!" Quinn said tearfully. Kate was sobbing next to her.

"I'll remember everything you told me, Granny, and I'll be thinking of you dear Anne," Kate said, sniffling.

"You'll be in good hands with your ma and Quinny…don't fret," Granny Palmer said.

Sam stood behind Quinn, his arms wrapped around her waist. He felt her shivering against him.

"I love you both so much…please write…" Quinn said, crying, hugging Anne and her grandmother once more.

"It's cold, dearie, go inside with your new husband…we'll talk soon," her grandmother said, knowing that using the cold weather as an excuse would make the leaving not as hard.

Sam led her to the porch, then returned to the wagons to help Quinn's grandmother get up on her bench.

"Take good care of your Quinny, Samuel…I have no doubt you will," she said to him, smiling.

"I will…safe travels, Granny," Sam said, returning to the porch with Quinn. They waved with the rest of the family as the wagons pulled down the drive slowly.

They retreated into the warmth of the Fabray home. Sam stopped Quinn in the hallway.

"It was hard for you, I know it…you held up well, though," he told her, holding her hands to warm them up.

"It wasn't easy…for either of us…" Quinn sighed.

"C'mon Sam…time to go…" Joseph said to him.

Quinn looked at him. "I'm going huntin' with the others…hopefully to bring us something home to eat," Sam told him.

"Okay…I think I'll go to the cabin and get some work done there…"

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, and they parted ways for the day.

_xxxxx_

Quinn was ready to get away from the crowd for awhile and the empty cabin sounded like the perfect place. She walked out there quickly and started the fire once inside. Firstly, she made up the bed, then let her mind wander to what had happened there that morning and the night previous, trying to process the feeling of sharing her body intimately with Sam. Then, she decided she wasn't going to think about it too deeply…she wanted him, plain and simple. She hoped it would lead to babies but if it didn't then so be it. She wondered if it was sinful the way she had enjoyed his touch that morning, how she had reacted, then realized she was thinking too much so worked on sweeping the cabin, preparing the laundry to be done, made some biscuits, and other chores. Finally, she pulled her easel over to a window for the natural light and painted.

In the woods with Peyton, James, and Quinn's brothers, hunting for game or fowl, they young men approached him, nudging him in the arm, wanting details of his night before.

"I had an enjoyable evening, fellows, and that's all I'm saying about that," he said.

They groaned and wandered off. He didn't feel it was gentlemanly to speak so forthright about their sister, though Peyton and James shared stories that Sam would rather not hear. Joseph was the only one not bothering him.

Sam partnered up with him as they crept through the deep woods.

"How's your shot, Joe? Ever get anything good?" Sam asked him quietly, watching all around them for movement in the underbrush.

"Nah, I'm a lousy shot…I usually only get squirrel," Joseph told him.

"That's how it was when I started out…you'll get better at it. I need to take down a buck or a turkey for Quinn and I," Sam said.

"Why don't you just buy a pig or cow from pa?"

"I might have to!" They chuckled quietly.

Sam wound up shooting a wild turkey for him and Quinn. Joseph shot a squirrel. He did manage to get a pheasant with his bow and arrow; Sam thought that was pretty impressive.

"I never could bow hunt very well at all…maybe you could give me some pointers?" Sam asked Joseph as they made their way back to the farm.

"Sure, brother…we'll be going again in a few days…" Joseph said.

"Fine…we'll work on your shot and my bow skills," Sam told him.

_xxxxx_

"A turkey! Wonderful Sam!" Quinn exclaimed upon seeing the large bird.

"I'll clean it tomorrow…" Sam said.

"Good. I've made soup for tonight."

"Did you have a good day?"

"It was fine. I worked here in the house and painted a little…just enjoyed the quietness," she said, smiling, fixing him a bowl of soup. "I made biscuits."

He smiled, sipping the soup. "I'm happy to be home."

_xxxxx_

They fell into a simple routine of working during the day and enjoying each other's company during the evening. Occasionally, they'd eat at the main house, maybe twice per week, but most of their time was spent time at their cabin, reading or writing or painting or just talking.

They also spent a good amount of time exploring each other. It was wintertime in central Virginia; at night, there was not much else to do once reading, writing, painting, and talking ran their course. They found that bathing one another was relaxing, especially after a hard day of working in the cold.

Sam learned where to touch Quinn to make her shiver, make her moan, make her cry out in pleasure. Some nights, he would just stare at her naked form in the firelight, tracing a fingertip lightly over her skin, noting the curve of her breast, how her hip bones jutted out, a mole on her right ribs, her long toes. He'd trace the muscles of her legs, her bottom, her arms, her belly. Sometimes, he'd kiss her in all those places, letting his lips linger on her alabaster skin.

Quinn would often rub Sam's aching muscles after he had worked a long day in his workshop or on the farm. She would have him lay on this belly and she'd start massaging his shoulders, then his back and arms, work her way down to his hips, even his legs. She was at first surprised by the light brown hair that covered his lower legs and how strong his legs were. Sometimes after a rubdown he would fall asleep, it relaxed him that much. Most of the time, however, their massages ended in their coupling, sometimes slow and gentle lovemaking, other times fast and urgent.

Quinn was becoming a little more adventurous, as well, trying new positions. Like the night they crawled into their cold bed and cuddled close together to keep warm and before long they were kissing and pressing up against one another and suddenly she straddled him, her hands on his shoulders and let him push up into her. She had leaned in close to him and whispered _I'm gonna ride you like Clyde_ and they both laughed but didn't stop what was happening. Until then, he had always been over her but this way felt entirely different, her weight balanced on him, him just lying there enjoying it. Since being married and finally able to share his bed, it seemed as though they couldn't keep their hands off one another. The first month there were a few days during her monthly when her hand would drift downward and stroke him as his lips quivered on hers. She still hated those days and hoped soon to be with child. Her sister's baby was due any day and when her labor started and Quinn had to be present.

At the end of January, there was a swift rapping on the cabin door in the middle of the night, waking Sam and Quinn. Thankfully, it was a night where they had just cuddled and fallen asleep. Sam pulled on his trousers and went to the door, finding a very jittery and nervous James Martin.

"It's Kate's time...she needs Quinn quickly," he blurted out to Sam.

Quinn heard her brother-in-law's worried voice and climbed out from under the warmth of the quilts and put on a work dress quickly. Her hair was still braided, so she wrapped it quickly in a bun, knowing she'd want it out of her way during what would probably be a chaotic time. She sat at the table and laced her boots.

"Shall I come with you?" Sam asked her, wrapping her cloak around her, pulling up the hood.

"No, Samuel. You get your rest. Come see me later. We'll probably take our meal tonight at papa's house," she said quickly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips.

James was waiting impatiently at the door for her. "Let's go, brother, I'm ready..."

_xxxxx_

On the way to the main house, James told her that Kate was in their old bedroom, she felt most comfortable there. The labor had started before bedtime and had picked up quickly in intensity. They entered through the kitchen, and Quinn put on an apron quickly, checking to see if water was on to boil.

"Mr. Martin, I need you to get water boiling. I'll tend to Kate with mother," she directed him. She thought giving him a job to do would direct his attention elsewhere, especially if Kate started screaming.

Quinn passed the sitting room and saw her father and brothers sitting in there, mostly half-asleep, being kicked out of their upstairs bedrooms.

As Quinn went up the staircase, she could hear the hushed voices coming from her old bedroom. Her mother and Patsy and Martha were with Kate already. Quinn went directly to Kate's side.

"Sister, I'm here now! How is the pain?" Quinn asked quickly. Kate looked at her, totally in fear.

"It hurts something awful, Quinny," she mumbled.

"Mama, I had Mr. Martin get the water boiling downstairs...he seemed not to know what to do..." Quinn said quietly to Miranda.

"Another one is starting..." Kate said, biting her lip through it.

"Kate, you need to breathe through them...Granny always said that...try to breathe through the pain..." Quinn said to her, holding her hand. "She also said to yell if you need to."

Kate looked to her older sister, her brow knitted and sweaty, and nodded.

"Do you need a rag for your head?" Quinn asked her.

Kate nodded again, pushing herself up in the bed. "I cannot stand lying down!"

Quinn ran downstairs to check on James and the boiling water and to get a cool rag. He was standing before the fireplace watching the pot of water over the flames.

"You know, a watched pot never boils," Quinn said, smiling. "Kate's doing fine...she's not to the hard part yet but she's doing okay."

"I'll just watch this water," he mumbled. "When will you need it?"

"When your babe arrives," she said, patting his arm and going back upstairs with her cool cloth in hand.

Upstairs, her sister was moaning and writhing in pain. Quinn put the cool washcloth to her forehead.

"No one ever tells you how awful this hurts, Quinny. Mama says I'm not even close to birthing this child yet!" Kate wailed.

"I'll be here by your side, Kate...I'm not going anywhere," Quinn told her, sitting next to her. "Just tell me what you need me to do."

"Ohhhh...dear...just stay here please..." Kate said, her voice shaking. "Remind me to breathe..."

So, for the next couple hours that's what Quinn did, sat next to Kate's labor bed, reminding her to breathe through the contractions. She seemed to be tolerating them better, so Quinn took a quick break to run to the outhouse and find Sam to update him.

She found him in his workshop, covered in tiny wood shavings. He brushed himself off and hugged her.

"You look exhausted!" he said.

She groaned into his shoulder but then smiled. "It is keeping me busy and I'm nowhere near exhausted like Kate is, poor dear. She's doing well though. Hopefully, the babe will be here soon."

"Yes, James Martin has been out here a number of times, wringing his hands, nervous. If you are too busy to meet me for supper, I'll bring yours to the cabin, is that okay?" he asked her.

"That'd be fine, Samuel, thank you. I had better return to her room. I love you!" she kissed him quickly and ran back to the house.

_xxxxx_

Kate was pushing when it was suppertime, so Quinn was nowhere near the dining room. Unfortunately, Kate could be heard throughout the house as she endured the final stage of her labor.

"Should I go be with her?" James asked nervously.

Thomas shook his head _no_ vigorously. "They'll let you know when you may see her. It's an unpleasant task, James, but one that must be endured by the womenfolk. They know this and understand it."

Sam sat there silently, thinking to himself that when and if he and Quinn were blessed with children he would be by her side to see them enter the world. Neither man nor beast could keep him from being with her as she went through childbirth.

Upstairs, Quinn and Martha supported Kate as she sat up through the pushing contractions while Miranda and Patsy prepared to "catch" the infant.

After another harrowing contraction, Kate collapsed back into the pillows. "I can't do it anymore, ma. This is just too much. I have no energy left..."

"Kate! You can too do this! This is what you wanted and the baby's almost here. You can't give up now; I won't let you!" Quinn said, helping her sit back up for the next contraction.

She grunted and cried through it, trying to push the infant out.

"Catherine, I can see the baby's head...you must keep pushing through the contractions...rest in between but push during them..." her mother said from between Kate's knees.

"Kate...you push hard wit nex pain! You do it!" Patsy said to her.

Quinn held Kate's hand and supported her back as she grunted and kind of screamed.

"The head's out Kate!" her mother told her. Quinn couldn't stop and peeked over Kate's knee to see the baby.

"Oh my goodness, sister...hair! Your baby has a full head of hair! Keep going...you can do this!" Quinn encouraged her.

"Really? Hair? Oh my...okay, okay, I think I can do this..." she sighed and held her breath for the next contraction, pushing through it.

"Just a couple more pushes, Kate, and you'll be done..." her mother said, asking Patsy for clean cloths.

"I'm so proud of you, Kate! I can't wait for you to hold this little one!" Quinn whispered to her.

She began pushing again but started complaining that it hurt.

"It's going to hurt some, Catherine, you're birthing the babe's shoulders!" Miranda said. "One more time, dear...that's all and this baby is out..."

"It just _hurts_ ma," Kate whined.

"It's much more pleasurable making a baby than birthing one...I see you've learned that," Miranda told her. The ladies in the room tittered with quiet knowing laughter, even Kate in the moment of levity.

"Okay, I think I need to push...this had better be the last time," she mumbled, holding her breath and closing her eyes. She gripped Quinn and Martha's hands and kind of wailed through the last push but the baby was born finally, crying. Patsy cleaned the infant and handed him to Kate who was leaning against the pillows again. She smiled when she took the infant.

"You have a boy, Kate," her mother said. "The placenta needs to deliver..."

Quinn and Martha were busy fawning over the new baby in Kate's arms. He was pink with brown hair and was crying loudly.

Kate suddenly burst into tears.

"Martha, run and get Mr. Martin," Quinn said. "Kate, don't cry...look at your beautiful son! He's handsome and I think he's hungry! James will be here soon..."

"What do I do with him?" Kate asked, appearing thoroughly exhausted and totally lost as to what she should do first.

"Oh, Kate! Such a lovely babe!" Patsy said, coming to the other side of her bed. "You needs to put him to yer bress, chile!"

Quinn left the room while Kate worked with Patsy and their mother with nursing the infant and passed James on the staircase.

"Congratulations, Mr. Martin," she said, wearily.

"Thank you, Quinny..." he mumbled, following Martha up the stairs.

Quinn made her way to the dining room and found Sam sitting there with her plate of food. She collapsed next to him. He put his arm around her shoulders and held her close to him.

"So you're an aunt now?" he asked her.

"Mhmm...to a little boy..." she said, sitting up from him and taking the cloth from her plate. "I'm ravenous!"

He smiled at her. "So...is that something you want?"

She looked at him mid chew. "Something I want?"

"You want to be a mother, I assume," he stated, wrapping his arm around her again. Whispering to her, he said, "Let me make you a mother."

His voice sent chills down her spine; she giggled a little, sounding like a schoolgirl.

She turned more toward him and tried to calm her giggles. Resting her forehead against his, she whispered back, "I want to be a mother...I want _you_ to make me a mother."

There was clamoring down the staircase. The carpet only muffled the sound. James appeared in the dining room.

"Kate wants you two upstairs!" He ran off to the sitting room to round up Thomas and his sons.

Quinn quickly ate a few more bites and took Sam's hand to go upstairs. Once the entire family had gathered into the bedroom, now cleaned up and the infant quieted, James sat on the edge of the bed next to Kate and took his newborn son in his arms.

"His name is James Thomas Martin, Junior," Kate announced.

The family took turns holding him briefly. His tiny warm body felt perfect in Quinn's arms. She kissed him gently on the forehead and handed him to Kate.

"I'm so happy for you, sister. You did a wonderful job…I'm proud of you," Quinn told Kate quietly, kissing her on the cheek. "You'll be there for me when it's my turn, correct?"

Kate smiled. "Of course, sister."

_xxxxx_

Sam and Quinn made their way to their cabin wearily. They stripped down to their nightclothes after Sam started the fire and then crawled into the cold bed, immediately curling into one another to get warm.

"Such a long rewarding day…" Quinn whispered, yawning.

"Your nephew is a handsome boy," Sam told her. "So, we made a decision earlier…are you fine with that?"

She ran her hand up his strong arm to his face. "I'm fine with that, Samuel. I want us to have a child. Tis be a blessing…"

He smiled and kissed her softly. "Yes, a blessing. I want that too. Tonight, though, you need your rest."

Once she dozed off, he slipped from their bed and took his journal to the table. His entry read:

_Jan 30, 1818 I became an unkle t'day to Jms T Martin, Jr., son of Jms & K Martin. Quinn asisted with the birth. We have desided we would like to have a child & would be blessed if such a thing hap'n'd._


	21. Loss

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 21-Loss**

**Franklin County, Virginia, February through May 1818**

Over the next several weeks, Quinn occupied her time with housework and spending time with Kate and her new baby. He was now nicknamed Jimmy by the family and was quite the attention-getter at the Fabray household. Shortly after his birth, Martha announced she was in the family way, so there was much rejoicing due to the fact the Fabray grandchildren were growing by one more. Martha expected her baby around July. Kate was slowly adjusting to motherhood with the help of her mother, Quinn, Martha, and Patsy.

Sam was keeping himself busy in his workshop and doing chores around the farm and going hunting with Joseph. His bow skills had improved, and he was with Joseph the day Joseph shot a young buck. Thomas was beginning to talk about their next trip to restock the general stores, and, in a way, Sam was dreading the lonely trek. Thankfully, Thomas didn't plan on going until after planting his crops.

Sam and Quinn decided to do what was needed to get her in the family way, and, if not exhausted at the end of the day, they tried nightly. It was not to be in February so life went on for them; they knew they'd have to give it some time most likely. Quinn told Sam what her mother had told Kate in the heat of labor, how it was more pleasurable to make the baby, and they shared a quiet laugh about that fact.

"You know, if we're blessed with a child or children, I want to be with you when you labor," he told her one night after a particularly involved love-making session. They both lay on their backs, breathing heavily, sweaty and satisfied.

She looked over to him, then rolled on her side to face him. "Really? You want to witness that?"

He rolled to face her.

"Of course I'd want to witness the birth of my child! To me, it is the greatest miracle of all. God created me and you to create our own children. I want you to have my children, Quinn Amelia, and I want to be there with you when you bring them into this world," he said quietly, taking her hand as he did so.

"That'd mean so much to me, Sam, but really you wouldn't have to be there…it's a room full of women, one of whom is in an immense amount of pain usually, blood, modesty goes out the window…"

"You're my wife, though, and I can't stand the thought of being apart from you if you were suffering…I'd do whatever I could to ease the pain for you," he said.

"I love you Samuel Byrum…" She leaned into him and kissed him slowly. "Let's try again…"

_xxxxx_

February turned into March. The temperatures improved, but the rain turned the earth into one giant mud pit everywhere you went. Consequently, one stayed on the farm the majority of the time since what few roads and paths they had were largely impassable.

Kate and James had returned to their cabin with Jimmy. Quinn missed seeing them on a daily basis and with the rain she couldn't get over there. Sam was working a lot outside as they got ready to plant, and he was a muddy mess most nights. Quinn found herself doing the wash a lot more often. Martha and Peyton had returned to their cabin so that left only her mother and Patsy to talk to as far as womenfolk on the farm. Sam, when not working on furniture or on the farm, was hunting to provide meat for them.

One day in mid March, Quinn found herself in the main house helping prepare supper since Sam was out hunting with the other menfolk and they had planned on eating there that evening. Her mother came in from the summer kitchen with an armload of rags.

"Quinny, do you need any of these?" her mother asked. "For your monthly?"

Quinn looked up from peeling potatoes. "No, I'm fine, thank you."

She counted the days quickly in her head. She was a week late. She decided not to tell Sam until she was sure. _Maybe just the excitement of getting married, assisting with Kate's birth, and all the new intimacy with Sam was throwing things off for her_, she thought. Actually, she felt like it could start anytime so she grabbed a handful of rags from the stack her mother left on a table and took them quickly to their cabin.

_xxxxx_

Another week passed by and nothing happened. Quinn went about her daily chores, trying to keep her mind off it. Sam was tired and dirty most nights as they were now planting, so she'd try to have a bath ready for him when he returned to the cabin. She'd massage his muscles for him, sometimes rub a salve on them, and most nights he'd collapse into bed, snoring before his head hit the pillow. She'd lie awake, her hands clasped over her breast, wondering if it was possible, if she was pregnant.

At the end of March, Quinn sat with her mother in their sitting room, working on mending. Now, instead of mending her brother's socks, she worked on Sam's clothing.

She cleared her throat in the silence, the only sound in the room the ticking of her father's clock on the mantel. "Mother?"

"Yes, Quinn?"

Quinn paused a moment, trying to find the words. "How do you know when...I mean, how can you tell if you're...what are the signs that you're in the family way?" It seemed like it took her forever to sputter that out, the clock ticking away. She felt herself blushing fiercely and stared down at Sam's socks in her lap.

Her mother stopped her knitting and looked at her. "Do you suspect you're expectant?"

Quinn shrugged a little. Her mother had never been open with her discussing these matters and the embarrassment was about to kill her. She knew her monthly would be late, after going through that with Kate. In the big city, the doctor could confirm a pregnancy but in the country there was no one but midwives and other women to go to for information.

"Your monthly is late, I assume?" Miranda asked her.

"By two weeks, ma'am," Quinn answered primly.

"You'll know for sure within the next two weeks, then," her mother said. "You'll be plagued by illness, mostly in the mornings but sometimes it continues throughout the day."

"I remember Kate being afflicted like that..." Quinn said quietly.

Miranda went to Quinn and sat down next to her. "If this is true, I'll be so happy for you, dear Quinny." She wrapped her arms around Quinn in a hug.

"Thank you, mama," Quinn replied, somewhat taken aback by Miranda's display of affection.

"To watch one's children grow and have children of their own is a wondrous thing, Quinn," her mother said wistfully. "First Kate, now Peyton and yourself...this house will be so full of love and laughter."

Quinn smiled at her mother's joy. She hoped her condition was, in fact, real. The next two weeks would be a long two weeks for her.

_xxxxx_

A few nights later, she and Sam were cuddling in bed, listening to the rain on the cabin's roof and some far off thunder rumbling. Sam was feeling particularly amorous that evening as a few nights had passed where they both were exhausted and fell asleep right away. Well, _Quinn_ was exhausted at the end of the day, sometimes even turning in before he did.

He was kissing her neck, then her cheek, then her lips, mumbling about her father wanting to leave soon on a trip to Richmond. His hands were caressing her body, pushing her shift up as he moved over the top of her. She was trying to respond to him, but the cabin seemed too warm, the stew she had made for their supper was not sitting right in her stomach, and she just couldn't breathe with him on top of her.

"Oh Sam..." she mumbled, feeling the stew making its way back up. She shoved him off her and ran to the door of the cabin, vomiting from the side of the porch. He had followed her and when he heard her retching went back inside to grab some rags she kept on hand. He grabbed her cloak and went to the porch where she was leaning on a support and draped her cloak over her shoulders, handing her the rags. She cleaned off her face and mumbled an apology. Once she felt it had passed, she went back inside the cabin, soaking wet. She sat at the table.

Sam chose another shift from their bedroom for her and stripped off her wet shift and dried her with the cloths. He put the dry shift over her head and pushed her hair back from her face, kneeling in front of her.

"Are you okay, Quinn? You look pale. Is it something I did?" he asked her.

She shook her head _no_ slightly and gripped his hands resting on her thighs.

"It's supposed to happen, Sam. I'm with child..." she whispered to him.

He thought he misheard her, she had spoken so quietly. "You're what?"

"With child, Samuel. We're going to have a baby..." she repeated.

"Quinn!" he said, smiling suddenly. "Is this true? You're for sure?"

"I'm pretty sure...the sudden illness is a sign," she said, smiling too.

They stood and embraced. He wrapped his arms around her slim body, holding her close to him.

"You've made me so happy, in so many ways, Quinn Amelia," he mumbled into her damp hair. "Come, you need your rest."

He took her hand and led her back to their bed. He settled her in and then returned to the front room and came back to her bedside with a bucket they used for water.

"I'll find us another bucket for water. You don't need to run to the porch every time you feel ill," he said, climbing into bed next to her.

"I love you so much, Quinn," he whispered, kissing her on her cheek.

"And I love you, Samuel," she said, closing her eyes, glad the sudden nausea had passed.

_xxxxx_

The next morning, Sam wrote in his journal: _Mar 31, '18 I am to be a father. I praise God for blesing Quinn and I in such a timely fashun_.

Quinn talked to her mother about when she should expect her confinement to end now that she was nearly 4 weeks late. They calculated a date sometime in November. Quinn was sick in the mornings and throughout the days. Sam couldn't stop smiling. He had already begun working on the cradle in his workshop to surprise Quinn with. On nice days, she'd sit on the porch of their little cabin and knit tiny blankets. At night, they'd curl up in bed and whisper about the baby-to-be, who it might look like, what they should name it, if it would be a girl or boy...

Quinn and Martha rode to Kate's one decent day to check on her and Jimmy. Martha was showing already and excited about her coming baby. Quinn had yet to tell anyone besides her mother and Sam. They found Kate rocking her screaming 3-month-old infant on the porch. As they came closer, they realized she had been crying.

"Sister, what is wrong?" Quinn asked her as Martha took Jimmy from her arms.

Kate sniffed. "It has just been a trying, _very_ trying, day thus far."

Jimmy was still howling, even in Martha's arms.

"I've tried to feed him, changed him, sang to him, rocked him...I just don't know what else to do..." Kate cried.

"He seems colicky," Martha pronounced. "Have you tried sugar water?"

Kate nodded. "I just don't think I'm cut out to be a mother."

"Oh now, Catherine! He'll get over his spell, just you wait and see! You'll be a fine mother! He's just cranky," Quinn said, taking Jimmy from Martha, bouncing him a little at her shoulder while patting his back softly. He emitted a very loud belch and then calmed down.

"See? He was just gassy, Kate!" Quinn said, laughing. She handed the baby back to Kate who had also calmed down.

"Let's go inside and have some tea, ladies," she said standing up.

Inside, Quinn and Martha asked her about her recovery, how she herself was feeling. Jimmy seemed to be growing well and looked a lot like his father. Kate said she was fairly tired most days with keeping up with her chores _and_ taking care of Jimmy. She said she hadn't had too many bad days since being home and James even helped out at night.

In a break in their conversation, Quinn said shyly, "I have some news of my own to share..."

Kate and Martha sat there for barely a second before it sunk in and they both were hugging her.

"Are you sure?" Martha asked her.

"I think so. I've been sick every day the past couple weeks, no monthly now for 2 months...Sam is thrilled," she told them.

"When is the baby expected? Have you talked to mama yet?" Kate asked.

"I have spoken to ma, and she thinks around November," Quinn answered.

"Oh, I certainly hope that both of you have an easier time than I did," Kate said, picking up Jimmy from where he was whining in his cradle.

"You did fine, sister! I hope my time is as easy as yours!" Martha said.

"Compared to some of the births I've attended, yours did seem fairly easy, Kate," Quinn added. "Shall we help with anything while we're here? The wash? Supper? Just tell us..."

The three girls spent the rest of the day helping Kate with her chores and taking turn holding the baby and talking. As the sun set, Quinn and Martha got in Quinn's buckboard to head home.

Kate hugged them quickly before they left.

"I've enjoyed the company today, sisters. We need to make it more often," she said. Quinn and Martha agreed.

They set out down the lane and reached the road, waving back at Kate, still standing on her porch holding Jimmy.

"Her baby is precious," Martha said. "I hope it gets easier for her."

"It's what she wanted; she knows it's her lot in life," Quinn said, realizing the same thing about herself. She dropped Martha off at her cabin and steered the buckboard toward the Fabray farm.

She did her own chores at her cabin quickly before Sam returned home for the night.

"Good evening," she said brightly when he entered the main room.

"Hello, dear wife," he said, hugging her quickly before removing his boots and other dirty work clothing. "What smells delicious?"

"Fried chicken...mama had one extra and gave it to us..." Quinn said, turning the pieces of the fryer over in the hot skillet. "Your bath water is ready."

"Thank you so much," he said, stepping behind her, kissing her on the neck and stripping out of his clothes. He stepped into the warm water and sighed. He watched her cooking their meal, her hair covered by a handkerchief, her apron a mess, her face red and sweaty.

"I wish this tub was big enough for two," he told her and she smiled.

"As much as I'd love to bathe with you right now, Samuel, supper will not cook itself," she laughed. "I visited Kate today and told her and Martha our happy news."

"Did you have a nice visit? How is your nephew?" he asked her.

"He's a sweet babe...cranky a bit..."

She handed him a towel to dry off with and he stepped out of the tub.

"You look tired, Quinn. After supper, I'll get you a bath ready," he said to her.

"You'd do that for me?" she asked, pulling the pieces of chicken out of the hot fat.

"Of course I'd do that for you...can I help you now with anything?" He pulled on a pair of trousers and a shirt and followed her directions with mashing some potatoes.

Once supper was on the table, she kissed him quickly before taking her place. "You are a wonderful man, Sam."

After supper, he made her a bath while she cleaned up their meal. Once she slid into the warm water, she also secretly wished he could fit in there with her. However, he stayed behind her and massaged her back and washed her hair for her. She felt great that night, no upset belly, not too tired, like her usual self. So, after her bath, she joined him in their bed and made love, the slowest time yet as they now knew each other's bodies and could slow down and enjoy it.

Quinn fell asleep with her hands resting on her flat belly, Sam next to her, his hand on hers.

_xxxxx_

The next day, Sam was hunting with the other men. He and Joseph paired up again as they enjoyed that time together and both had learned from the other. Quinn was at the main house helping her mother and Patsy in the kitchen.

The twins had gone north, Thomas and Peyton east, and Joseph and Sam south. Waiting against a tree for any motion of game, Sam asked Joseph if he had heard from Nancy Ann Watson, Sam's cousin.

"She writes me often. I like to hear from her," Joseph said quietly.

"Do you write her back?"

"Well, not a lot. Should I?"

"Of course! Quinn and I have written many letters to one another. It is a wonderful way to communicate when you can't be together very often," Sam told him.

"Well, do you think you could help me with a letter to her? I'm not sure what to write really," Joseph told him. "Oh! A rabbit!"

_xxxxx_

Working in the kitchen was hot work. That day, though, it felt even more heated in the kitchen to Quinn, more closed in, like she couldn't get any air. She was working on biscuit dough and found herself popping outside a lot to feel the cool breeze on her sweaty forehead.

After doing that for the third time, Miranda asked her if she was feeling okay.

"You look pale…" Her mother put her wrist to Quinn's forehead. "You're clammy."

"I'm fine…just a little overheated, ma," she said, forcing a small smile.

She went back to her biscuits, rolling the dough then cutting them out and placing them on a baking slab. She went to the fireplace and put her biscuits on a rack over the fire and went back to rework the leftover dough.

Now, along with the overbearing heat, her lower belly began aching. She felt warm liquid stream down her leg. She lifted the edge of her dress and saw bright red blood pooling on the floor.

"Mama…" she said worriedly. "Something's wrong…"

_xxxxx_

"At least we have two rabbits to take back…that might be all for the day," Sam said to Joseph as they moved farther south.

"I keep hearing hooves…there's gotta be deer around here somewhere," Joseph said quietly, looking to the left, then the right.

From far off they heard the supper bell ring three times, pause, then three more times.

"Did you hear that?" Sam asked, stopping.

Joseph stopped too, listening. "Yeah, three times…they need us at the house…"

Joseph took off running. Sam caught up with him.

"Wait! What do you mean, they need us?" Sam grabbed Joseph's arm, stopping him.

"If they ring it three times, we're needed back there…who knows why. Pa always told me to high-tail it back if I heard it three times…c'mon!"

Sam looked at him. "Fine, let's go…"

They moved as quickly as they could through the underbrush of the woods toward the Fabray farm, still hearing three rings, pause, then three more rings of the bell. It never crossed Sam's mind that something was wrong with Quinn.

_xxxxx_

Miranda took Quinn by the arm and she and Patsy moved her upstairs, to her old bedroom.

"Ma? What's wrong? Is something wrong?" Quinn asked, beginning to cry.

"Let's get your work clothes off, strip down to your shift," her mother said, essentially ignoring Quinn's questions. As Quinn worked her dress off, she noticed Patsy preparing the bed, using the heaviest rags where she would be laying, the ones used for women in labor. "Are you having any pain, Quinny?"

"My lower belly hurts…mama?"

"Get into the bed, Quinn, and Patsy and I will check you…"

Quinn had no idea what to expect. She heard her mother tell Patsy to run downstairs and ring the bell to call the men back and then bring hot water upstairs.

"Quinn, I need to check your bleeding. I'm afraid you're losing the baby," her mother said bluntly, not sugar-coating her suspicion.

"_What?_ No! That can't be! I need Sam here! This just can't be happening…not now…" Her voice trailed off into soft muffled sobs as she covered her face with her hands. She kept hearing the bell ringing outside the house.

Her mother covered Quinn's lower body with a quilt and told her to bend her knees up and out. Miranda used a rag to clean up the blood from Quinn's vaginal area. She sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Quinny," she said quietly. "Are you feeling cramping?"

Quinn couldn't reply; she was weeping. She nodded to her mother's question.

"Is Sam on his way?" she mumbled to her mother.

Miranda didn't know for sure but told her yes, he'd be there shortly. She moved up to Quinn's side.

"I am sorry, Quinn. This happens sometimes…it's nature's way of taking care of something that was wrong. It's better that it happens now and not 9 months from now…" She put a cool cloth on Quinn's forehead and went to the windows to pull the curtains closed.

_xxxxx_

The men all arrived to the farm at the same time, running up to Patsy who finally stopped ringing the bell.

"Patsy, why have you called us back?" Thomas asked.

She was visibly upset, looking at the ground.

"Is it Mrs. Fabray, Patsy? What has happened here?"

She slowly looked up at the men, finding Sam's eyes.

"Miss Quinny…Sam, she be upstairs…" That was all he heard; he had pushed through the group of men and ran inside the house.

He took the stairs two at a time and stopped in the doorway of her old bedroom, hearing her cry quietly. He took in the scene, the curtains drawn, her mother standing at the end of the bed, Quinn lying there weeping. He swallowed thickly and went to her side, kneeling next to the bed.

He took her hand, and she opened her eyes, smiling weakly.

"Quinn…I came as fast as I could…are you okay?"

"Not really, Samuel. We've lost the child," she whispered. He dropped his head to their hands, taking in that information.

He heard the door shut softly; her mother had left the room, leaving them alone.

"Sam…" she whimpered. "I'm so sorry."

He slid into bed next to her, holding her while she cried against him. He was numb, couldn't really process the news.

"Are you having pain?" he asked her finally.

"A little, not bad though. I just can't believe this is happening to us…" she mumbled.

"Me either, Quinn, me either…" he said quietly. "Pray with me."

They rested their heads together on the pillow, facing one another, and mumbled quiet prayers. Her face scrunched up in pain.

"I need my mother, Sam…" she groaned, pushing herself up to sitting.

He jumped off the bed and ran from the room to find Miranda. She was in the dining room and returned to the bedroom with Sam. He sat on the bedside with Quinn, holding her hand.

"I feel something, mama," she said, holding her breath and trying not to cry.

Miranda checked Quinn. "The fetus has delivered, Quinny. It was a boy child."

Sam held Quinn again as she wept.

"A son, Quinn, you gave me a son," Sam said quietly to her, himself crying quietly.

"He's very tiny. Do you want to see him?" her mother asked, trying to keep her emotions out of the situation.

"I'm not sure, mama…" Quinn said.

Sam sighed. "I will, Miranda," he said. He stood up and went to the end of the bed. Miranda had laid the barely formed tissue on a cloth. It was recognizable as a tiny baby boy, though.

Sam looked down at the small form, then ran his hands through his hair, suddenly wondering again why another loved one had been taken from him.

"Is Quinn gonna be okay?" he asked Miranda sadly.

"I've sent her father for Dr. Willis," her mother responded. "Shall the babe be buried in our family plot?"

Sam looked at her, his eyes bloodshot, tear streaks down his face. "No, I'll take him to the Feazels, next to my mother."

He turned to Quinn. "Will that be okay, Quinn?"

"Yes, Sam," she said quietly. "Mama, can you give Sam and I a moment?"

Once her mother had left the room, Quinn asked Sam to bring her the baby. He picked up the cloth gently and took it to her, almost unable to bear the sounds of her sobs. He took the cloth and covered the remains and set it across the room. He returned to Quinn, again crawling onto the bed next to her, crying with her.

"I tried Samuel…I don't know why God would do this to me…" she mumbled into his shoulder.

"He had a reason, I'm sure…I know how you feel, though, Quinn, I do…I should've never gone hunting today…"

"You need to do something for our son, Sam…you need to…to create a little box…for him…" It got to the point that she could barely speak the words.

The thought of creating a tiny casket for his tiny son made his stomach churn. He knew it was his job, his responsibility.

"I will, Quinn…I'll take care of that…"

They lay there together in silence until Dr. Willis arrived to examine Quinn. Sam stood by her side while he asked her many questions. He checked the expelled fetus. He checked Quinn's belly and said Miranda had checked the other areas. The bleeding had slowed down. She had no pain. The pregnancy was over.

_xxxxx_

The doctor gave Quinn some laudanum to help her rest that night. She would stop crying, then relive the events of the day, and begin crying again. Finally, the laudanum calmed her enough that she could rest.

Sam, on the other hand, could not sleep. He had taken the cloth holding his son's remains to the ice house the Fabrays had and put it high atop a stack of ice. He then retreated to the cabin to make his journal entry.

_Apr 15, '18 Our son was stilborn t'day. He was very tiny. He will be burried next to my ma. We are devastated._

Tears were falling on the page as he wrote the words.

He closed the journal and went to his workshop. There, he gently dismantled the cradle he had been working on and used that wood to fashion a very small casket for his son. Once that was finished, he went to Quinn's old bedroom and crawled into bed with her, hoping her warmth would help him but he was still not able to sleep.

_xxxxx_

She awoke with a start and sat straight up in bed. He knew when the medicine wore off something like this might happen.

She shook him. "Sam! Sam! The baby! Oh my god…what happened to the baby?"

He sat up with her, holding her arms tightly, trying to calm her.

"Yesterday, Quinn, the baby…came early…he was too early to survive…" he said to her quietly.

She sobbed against him, then lay back down and fell into a fitful sleep. He knew he had to be strong for her but he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

At some point during the night, he must've fallen asleep. She was talking to him, in a normal tone, not frightened or upset, telling him what the baby's name was. _Samuel Joseph_ she said quietly. He woke with a start, but she was fast asleep.

_xxxxx_

The next two days, Quinn stayed at the main house, bedfast per doctor's orders. Word spread around their small community and she took visits with Kate and Martha, even Sam's grandmother. His grandmother said something that stayed with Quinn: _This too shall pass. _At night, Sam sat next to her bedside and read passages from their Bible while she sat there quietly, listening to his voice, hoping it would soothe her. When she nodded off, he'd climb into bed next to her, kissing her softly, and fall asleep himself.

On the third day, Sam rode his horse to his grandmother's farm. He and his uncle Phillip dug a small grave next to Sam's mother's grave. Sam found a sizable fieldstone and took it back to his workshop. He used a hammer and chisel on it, carving _Son of S. and Q. Evans, Apr 15, 1818_.

On the fourth day after losing the baby, Quinn got out of bed and dressed herself, going to the summer kitchen for a bath. From the bath, she dressed in a clean black satin dress, brushed her hair back and braided it, and prepared to go with Sam to the burial ground at the Feazels.

She sat in the sitting room of her parents' home with her mother, Kate, and Martha, no one speaking a word. Kate had left Jimmy with her in-laws. Quinn kept glancing at Martha's growing belly, watching her hand fall on it unconsciously, and she could feel the anger bubbling up inside her. She bit the inside of her mouth and looked back to her Bible, reading fervently to herself.

The men brought the wagons to the front of the house. Quinn went to the door, tying the black sash of her black bonnet under her chin. Sam met her at the door and walked her to the buckboard and helped her up into it. He had dressed in his black suit and retrieved the baby's remains from the ice house. He wrapped the remains in one of the baby blankets Quinn had knitted and placed it inside the small casket.

He sat next to her but before picking up the reins he gripped her hand in his.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked.

She looked at him solemnly. "It must be done." He picked up a tone of something on her voice, anger? disinterest? sadness?

The ride to the Feazels was a short one. Quinn watched the countryside blooming in spring flowers as the buckboard rumbled down the path to Sam's grandmother's.

_At least it's a pretty day, a pretty day to bury my child_, Quinn thought, a single tear trailing down her cheek.

Once they arrived at the Feazel's, Quinn felt like she was moving in a dream. Everything seemed slow, surreal, impossible. She held onto Sam's elbow, her eyes trained on the ground, knowing what he carried in his hands. He had shown her the box, carefully carved with the baby's name on it. She liked the name Samuel Joseph.

At the gravesite, Sam set the tiny box next to the grave and stood next to Quinn, supporting her weight against him. Why did it seem like just yesterday that they were running carefree through that forest, splashing in the creek, laughing? Today, today was a sad funereal day…he felt so old. He felt he was still in a state of shock over what had happened.

The family members gathered around Sam and Quinn, listening to Preacher Bennett's sermon. He droned on about the soul of the young babe, just barely formed, the mother too young to bear such sorrow, she now had an angel in heaven watching over her. When he began the prayer was when Quinn lost what little control she had.

_Lord, look down from heaven above_  
><em>And touch this special child with love,<em>  
><em>Protect and guide this little one<em>  
><em>Till each and every day is done.<em>  
><em>Remind us often that it's true,<em>  
><em>This little life is a gift from you.<em>  
><em>A miracle You've sent our way !<em>  
><em>Lord, bless this little child today.<em>

She kept telling herself she had only been 2, maybe 3, months along, but then the image of the tiny fetus would drift through her mind and she knew it had been real, it had happened for them, yet ended. She kept telling herself that it was God's will that had made it happen, nothing that she or Sam did, but that didn't make any sense to her. And it was killing her inside. She couldn't make herself stop crying. She felt Sam's arms around her, his scratchy beard against her cheek, but she slipped down to the ground anyway. In her mind, she thought she could just lie there forever, what would it matter? She could just lie there next to her tiny babe and Sam's mother and it'd all be fine.

Sam sat next to her on the ground, whispering to her. Her brothers lowered the small box into the ground and began the solemn task of filling the grave. There was another prayer and the others went inside Sam's grandmother's home.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn," he mumbled to her, not knowing what else to say. "Maybe we can go home, read the Bible, find comfort in that..."

The anger boiled over then.

"There is no comfort in reading the Bible! Our baby is gone, Sam, _gone_! Why would God do this to us? Why? I just can't understand why and nothing in the Bible is going to make me feel any better!"

She pushed herself up off the ground and ran toward the forest, mad at God, mad at herself for speaking to Sam in that manner, mad at everything. He stood up and watched her disappear into the woods and sighed. In a way, he understood what she was feeling; he had been through it. In another way, he couldn't understand why she was pushing him away when he needed her most, when she needed him. He went to the house to thank people for coming and then went to the buggie to take it back home.

_xxxxx_

In the forest, she felt free, free from the sadness, free from the prying eyes and whispers. She got to the creek and sat down, taking off her slippers and dipping her feet into the cool water. She slipped across quickly and put her slippers back on. She made her way to the little shack from many years ago, from when she played there with Peyton and Sam. Someone had tried to restore it, probably new children, and she found an old bench, really a fallen tree, they used to sit upon. She sat down and watched the sun's light move through the branches of the trees and wondered why life couldn't be simple like it was then. The old table was still there, so she leaned back against it to keep watching the sunlight. She decided it was the emptiness making her angry, the emptiness of her belly, the emptiness she felt in her heart toward God. All her life, she had been taught to revere the lord and he had turned on her...where was He in her time of need?

It was so quiet in the forest...she could hear the ripple of the creek, the new leaves on the tree branches swinging in the breeze...then the snap of a twig. She sat up suddenly. He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, hat pushed back on his head, watching her.

He was pretty sure where he'd find her in the woods and he was right. When he came upon her, for a moment, the way she was leaning back on the old table, he thought she was dead but she sat up suddenly and his heart started again. The way the sun was drifting through the branches, down through the cracks of the old shack onto her, she looked like the little girl he first met there in the forest, looking for fairies so many years ago. But now, she was a grown woman experiencing an overwhelming loss...the sadness radiating off her permeated his skin, wrapped around his heart, and squeezed tightly. He saw her face crumble and the tears start again. He went to her.

Holding her on the fallen tree, he said quietly, "I know it hurts, Quinn. We can get past this, though. We'll never forget that little boy...he'll always be considered our firstborn. Let me love you through this...please..."

She felt numb in his arms, then whispered, "I want to die Sam...this hurts me too much..."

He held her tighter, hurt by her words. He took a deep breath. "I can't live without you, so if you die, I die..."

She cried harder in his arms.

"I promise you, Quinn, we will make it through this...but if you die and I die then we fail. In the future, we can try to have another child. My heart aches for you, Quinn Amelia. You can't die on me..."

She sniffed a little, her head nestled into his shoulder. "Take me home, Sam."

He carried her all the way back to their cabin, put her on their bed and lay down with her.

"There's nothing I can do to fix this...I'd do anything..." she mumbled, pulling the quilts up to her chin.

"I know you would...I would too...as harsh as this sounds, we must keep going...we can't let this pull us down."

She looked at him. "I'm trying Samuel..."

He kissed her and let her sleep. In his journal, he remarked: _Apr 19, '18 Burried my son today, next to ma. Quinn is in a very dark humor...worries me_.

_xxxxx_

The next couple weeks, Quinn didn't venture far from their cabin. She kept mainly to herself, was quiet, even with Sam. Her mother and father came to visit her, bringing food; her sister and Martha came to visit her, bringing more food. She spent a lot of time rocking, working on Sam's clothes, sometimes painting.

Kate visited her alone one day. They sat on the porch of the cabin, enjoying the early May weather.

"You're so quiet, sister," Kate said.

"Why did you not bring little Jimmy? I would've liked to see him," Quinn said, ignoring Kate's statement.

"I thought he might..." Kate searched for the words. "...bother you."

"Bring him tomorrow. I'd like to see him please," Quinn asked.

The next day, Kate brought the babbling infant, now nearly 5 months old. For the first time since April 15, Quinn genuinely smiled.

She held the cooing infant and talked to him and held him some more. Seeing the little boy smile at her lifted her heart for the first time in weeks. And for the first time she thought maybe she could go on with her life.

_xxxxx_

Sam had written his father of the infant's demise and asked him about the young Amos who was ailing at Christmastime. Miranda brought him a letter to the workshop the day Quinn held her nephew. He took the letter to the tree he and Quinn sat under to take their noon meal sometimes and unsealed it. The letter was from his father, so he steeled himself for more bad news. Enclosed in his father's letter was a second letter addressed to Sam. He set that one on his lap and read his father's missive.

He smiled when he read the news that Amos was still with them, actually doing somewhat better as winter was over. His father sent his condolences regarding the miscarriage. He also asked when Sam and Quinn could visit them in North Carolina and talked some of his farm in North Carolina.

Sam refolded that letter, set it aside, and picked up the other letter. It was addressed only to Samuel B Evans, Pvt, Stokes County, North Carolina. Since his military designation was used, he assumed it had something to do with the War of 1812. He unsealed this letter and read quickly through the information, the letter signed by his captain, John Trimble. He went back to his workshop, the letters tucked in his shirt pocket, the contents of the letter from Captain Trimble weighing on his mind heavily.

_xxxxx_

That evening, Quinn was making conversation with him and smiled a little when he told her about his day. He debated telling her about the letter. Instead, that night, he asked her to take a walk after supper, like they did when they were courting. He held her hand, rubbing his thumb over her skin gently. He had missed their intimacy recently but understood she needed to recuperate from their loss.

"Did you enjoy your visit with your sister and nephew?" he asked as they reached the gate.

"Yes...it made me happy to see Jimmy...and when he giggled...it was the sweetest sound in the world," she said, gazing upward at the stars. To him, she sounded like the girl he knew, the girl he loved.

He looked up at the stars with her. "I wonder if the stars look the same all over the world? Do you think so?"

"Hmm...I don't know...there are just so many tonight..."

He leaned toward her and kissed her quickly at the corner of her mouth. She smiled a little, looking down at her hands on the gate.

"We probably should return..." she said, turning and walking back down the path. He followed behind her, taking her hand again and whistling into the night air.

_xxxxx_

That evening, when they went to bed, he moved in close to her. He wrapped his arm around her waist, nipped at her ear, moved his hand down her thigh to start inching her shift up, and pressed up behind her.

"I've missed you," he whispered behind her.

He felt her sigh.

"I just can't, Sam...not yet..." she whispered in the dark, moving his hand off her leg.

He kissed her again on the neck and rolled over and they fell asleep, back to back.

_xxxxx_

At the end of May, they received word that Quinn's aunt Anne Harter had had her firstborn child, a son, named Ferdinand. Miranda read the letter out loud after supper one night, remarking on the exotic choice of name. It was a stormy night so the family had congregated in the sitting room but after Quinn heard that news she abruptly got up, grabbed her cloak, and ran out to the cabin. Sam watched her go, looking back down at the Bible he held in his hands.

Miranda came over and pulled a chair near the loveseat he sat on.

"Samuel, if I may?" she asked, putting a hand on his arm to stop him from reading. He looked at her, and the loneliness was apparent in his eyes.

"Quinny is still having trouble dealing with the miscarriage? Will she talk to you at all about it?" Miranda asked him.

"No, ma'am. She has said nothing about it since the burial," he answered.

"I'm sorry, Sam. You look heartbroken. Have you tried talking to her?"

"No, ma'am."

"I realize she is struggling with her emotions with your loss, but she has to understand that she is still alive and so are you and her duty as your wife is to also comfort you. She is being selfish, Samuel," Miranda told him.

"Our loss has affected her deeply, and I will allow her to be selfish as long as she needs to be," he said sternly, standing up and putting on his coat.

"Thank you for your thoughts, Miranda," he said quietly and left the house.

Running to the cabin in the pouring rain, he thought about what she said. Of course, he knew she was right to a degree. To him, though, Quinn's grief over the loss of the pregnancy, even only 2-3 months in the making, was enough to show him how much she had wanted that child. He would let her grieve as long as it took, he figured. He missed her touch, missed being close to her, but he also knew his hand could do the trick if it was that urgent. He could find somewhere private and 10 minutes later be relieved of that stressor though he yearned for her.

When he reached the cabin, he found her slowly rocking in the front room, watching the storm from the window. He could barely make out her profile in the low light from the single candle lit. He shut the door to the cabin quietly, smiling at her.

"Quinn, can we talk?" he asked her.

**A/N: In my mind, during this time period, if a pregnancy miscarried it was taken very seriously, including a burial of the remains. I think this hit Quinn pretty hard so that's why I wrote it that way. Sam, of course, is affected, as well, but he's trying to be manly and strong and supportive. We're not done with his emotional processing yet.**


	22. Time To Heal

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 22-Time To Heal**

**Franklin County, Virginia, May/Early June 1818**

She stopped rocking and looked up at him. "Yes, I'd like to talk, Sam."

"Can I sit down here with you?" he asked, pulling up a chair next to her. He wrapped an arm around her tiny shoulders. She had lost weight since the pregnancy ended; he could tell.

"I've missed you, Quinn Amelia," he began. She started to protest but he interrupted her. "In that way but every other way too. I miss my wife, my friend, you're just a shell of who you once were, Quinn...I miss _you_. I want _you _back. The other night, when we were stargazing, it felt like you were there but I pushed things and I'm sorry and it's like you've retreated yet again. I need to find you in there and bring you back to me." He was facing her, holding both her hands in his.

She looked at him earnestly. "I'm trying, Sam, really I am," she whispered.

"I know you are…remember, I've been there and some days are easier than others. I'll always be here for you, Quinn, never forget that…" he said, leaning in to kiss her gently.

"I just feel…empty, like I failed you…" she said quietly.

"You didn't fail me; you'll never fail me. I made a vow to love you forever, through good and bad, and I'll never go back on that, Quinn," he said. "I need to tell you something."

That seemed to pique her interest, he noticed. "I received a letter from my father."

Her façade changed to concern, knowing his young half-brother was ailing.

"My father said Amos has actually improved a bit, with the onset of warmer weather. He also forwarded another letter to me, a letter from my captain in the War of '12."

Now she seemed confused. Why would his captain from that war being corresponding with him?

"Cap'n Trimble wrote that as payment for my service of four years in the war I would receive compensation of land. Land, Quinn! They're paying me with land! We can own our own land!" he said, excitedly.

"Land? You'll be a landowner? Sam, that's wonderful news!" she said, jumping from the rocking chair and into his arms. She sat on his knee, her arms wrapped around his neck. "Where? Land here in Franklin County? Or North Carolina?"

He cleared his throat. "Not exactly here or North Carolina. The government is acquiring land west of here and they need residents to populate these new areas…I can receive 40 acres for my service and I can buy a matching 40 acres, totaling 80 acres, and once we farm it for 2 years, it will be free and clear our land!"

She suddenly wasn't so excited.

"West of here? Farm it for 2 years?"

"Yes! I've saved enough money that I should be able to afford the matching 40 acres…they sell it at a discount…"

"How far west of here?" she interrupted.

He cleared his throat again. "Indiana and Illinois."

She looked at him quizzically. "Isn't that where David and Anne Harter and Granny Palmer went to? Indiana?"

He nodded, hoping that might sell her. "Yes and didn't David Harter serve in the war too? He will probably be compensated the same as me."

She squirmed a little on his lap. With her in such close proximity, he felt his cock twitch next to her thigh. His mind turned to where he might disappear to for 10 minutes to be alone.

"Well, you've given me a lot to think about, Samuel. I think I'd like to rest now," she said, standing up from his lap. She glanced downward between his legs.

"Come lay with me; I'll help you with that…" she said quietly, offering her hand.

She led him to the bed and took his clothes off him. She left her shift on, and they lay down facing one another. He didn't make a move, just waited on her. She leaned into him and kissed him slowly. He felt her hand move onto his member, stroking him slowly. It had been so long since he felt her touch that he had to think of different things to keep it from ending. He nestled his head into her shoulder, his lips touching her neck every once in awhile. He could tell she was watching her hand work him. He felt her move his foreskin up and over his head, squeezing him gently, her strokes becoming faster. He moved his hips in response to her hand and kept moving himself closer to her body. At the end, he was partially up over her, expelling himself on her shift, moaning into her neck. She kept her hand wrapped around his penis and let him rock back and forth against her until he trembled with the movement, the sensitive organ being over stimulated. She knew he wanted more, that he wanted to resume their intimacy, but she just couldn't bring herself to be that close to him again.

He was still breathing heavily against her and mumbled _thank you_.

"I love you, Sam…I just need some time…" she replied.

"I understand, Quinn…"

"Tomorrow, we'll talk more about this land ownership letter," she said, kissing him.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, laughing and kissing her back.

_xxxxx_

The next day, Sam and Quinn took the letter to her father. He read over it and set it aside. He looked at Sam.

"Is this something you are considering, Samuel?" Thomas asked him.

"Sir, I'm very grateful for the opportunity you have given me with putting my carpentry skills to use. Also, just having the opportunity to meet Quinn and marry her is worth more to me than…than anything. I'd like to take advantage of this, so that Quinn and I can own our own land. I have enough money saved to buy the 40 matching acres and from what David Harter has written the land is fertile in Indiana. We'd live near the Harters and Mrs. Palmer. I'll check with the most nearby land office here to make sure this is official business," Sam explained.

Thomas looked from Sam to Quinn and back to Sam. "I understand, Sam. You should check into it and if you both feel it is something you'd like to pursue then you should. Just remember, you always have a home here."

Quinn hugged her father. The more she thought about this land prospect the more her depression began to ebb though the thought of leaving her close family concerned her. Maybe the trip to Indiana and the change of scenery would help. Then, she would think of how far away she'd be from the people she was closest to and be worried that she wasn't strong enough to go with Sam.

"It scares me in a way, Sam, but if it's what you want to do then we shall do it," Quinn said to him over supper in their cabin.

"Why does it scare you? You'd be with me," he replied.

"Just being so far away from my family...and what if something happened to you?" They knew the trip to Indiana was long, from letters they had received from the Harters.

"Before we leave, I'll teach you to shoot my gun..."

"If something happened to you, I'd turn the gun on myself..."

He dropped his spoon onto his plate with a clatter.

"Don't ever say that again, Quinn Amelia," he said sternly, quietly.

She stared down at her plate, ashamed of what she had said. They ate in silence and went to bed.

_xxxxx_

Sam and Joseph rode into Bedford to the land office there to see what information they could learn about the land grants in Indiana. The man there had not heard anything about it and told Sam to check the military post in Roanoke. So, Sam and Joseph made the trek back to the Fabrays and set off the next day for Roanoke.

While Sam was away, Quinn visited Kate and Martha, helping at their homes with their chores. Martha was finding pregnancy not easy to tolerate and was bedridden most days. Kate had her hands full with Jimmy. Quinn's own chores weren't enough to keep her busy so she found herself helping them. Little Jimmy lifted her spirits and the extra work kept her mind off missing Sam.

"How're you feeling, sister?" Kate asked her one day.

Quinn looked up, smiling. "Fine."

"This whole business of moving to Indiana isn't bothering you?"

Quinn's brow furrowed. "Well, of course it is. How I'd miss the family! If Samuel chooses to go, I will go with him, of course," Quinn responded. "It shall be an adventure!"

Kate smiled, a forced smile. "You will be missed, Quinn."

Quinn was rocking Jimmy in her arms and stood up to hug her sister. "I'll miss it here," she whispered.

_xxxxx_

In Roanoke, Sam and Joseph found the military post. Two elderly men sat inside the small cabin at a table, playing cards. When Sam and Joseph stepped into the one room, one gentleman looked up from his hand and grunted.

"This here is peacetime, boys, no need for recruitments..." he mumbled, sipping from an amber bottle between the two. They both chuckled.

"Sir, I'm here with a letter from my captain in the war. It says they're paying soldiers with land in Indiana and Illinois for their service," Sam told them, holding the letter out.

The other man who had not yet spoken took the letter and read it slowly.

He laughed at the end. "Ol' man Trimble, eh? He was an old coot!"

"He was a fine cap'n, sir," Sam replied.

"Well, Private Evans, your letter there is true and correct in all its statements. You're free to pack up and leave ol' Virginny and steer your wagon north and west for the great land of the red man or take ol' Danny Boone's wilderness path," the man told them.

"Danny Boone?" Joseph asked.

"Yes sir!" The other man stood up and walked to one of the many maps lining the walls. "This one right here..." He pointed to the yellowed parchment.

Sam and Joseph went to the map, staring at it closely.

"See, ol' Danny Boone blazed a trail westward through the Appalachians..." the old man said. "Right there..." He placed a finger on a well-worn spot on the map. Sam saw Stokes County and the trail moving north of where he lived in Kentucky with Elizabeth and her family.

"May I copy this?" Sam asked.

The two older men looked at one another and shrugged.

"Sure, sonny..." The man still sitting hauled himself up from the rickety chair and rummaged around in a stack next to him, straightening up with a blank sheet of parchment and a pencil.

Sam looked at Joseph. "I sure wish your sister was here now; she could paint this for us." He held up the paper to the map on the wall and began tracing.

_xxxxx_

Quinn was anxiously awaiting Sam's return to know if he found out anything about the Indiana land grants. She went over Anne Harter's letters about their travel with Granny Palmer back to Indiana in early January. Of course, the weather they dealt with was much different than what Sam and Quinn would have to endure. Quinn didn't know which was worse: freezing cold, snow, and ice or blistering heat, rain, mud, insects. Anne told of how the roads were fine in Virginia and northward but the farther west they traveled the worse the ride became. There was barely a path, maybe two ruts for the wagon wheels; it was heavily forested and one always had to be wary of wild animals and the Indians still lingering about. There was night after night of sleeping in the wagon, rarely a night where they slept indoors anywhere. Meals were awful. Anne felt a bit luckier than the others in their group (they were also traveling with fellow church members) since she was expectant and was always given the freshest fruits and vegetables.

One night while Sam was still away, Quinn sat in the sitting room with her mother.

"What are your thoughts, mother? About Sam and I traveling to Indiana?" Quinn asked, working on a quilt square.

Miranda set her knitting in her lap. "Quinny, I honestly think the change in scenery would do you much good. I know you've suffered a great loss and my heart broke for you, but it's time to heal your wounds and go on with your life. Your husband spends most days moping around here, looking lost without you. I think traveling with him, alone, will allow you two to regain the closeness you once had."

Quinn looked down at her quilt square. She understood what her mother meant.

"I've read and re-read the letters from dear Anne, about their travels, and I'm just not sure…I'm up for it," Quinn said quietly. "But, he's my husband and if he says we go, then we go."

"Samuel said you'd be joining the Harters and Granny Palmer in Indiana, if you choose to go, so you wouldn't necessarily be alone there…in the wilderness," her mother said.

"Mama! It's not the wilderness!" Quinn laughed. "It's a newly minted state!"

"Anne has talked of Indians still residing there…"

"And also of the fertile land. We could grow corn! The seed is inexpensive and we'd have 80 acres!" Quinn realized she was using her argument to convince her mother why she and Sam should go, sounding like she had made her decision. "I think I'll sleep in our cabin tonight."

_xxxxx_

While Sam had been away, Quinn had been sleeping in the main house but that night, the night before his return, she stayed in their cabin. The night was nice and warm so she sat on the porch for a bit, recalling their courting days and their walks.

She remembered how shy and proper they'd been during those early days of getting to know one another. She remembered the night he told her of his late wife and how it had brought him to tears. She remembered the nights they explored each other's bodies, not able to keep their hands off one another. She remembered the nights she had taken the walk alone while he was on trips with her father and brothers. She recalled how secure she felt in his arms, how soft his lips were on hers. She wrapped her shawl tighter around her against the night chill, wondering if he could see the same stars she could see.

_Just think of all the stars you'd see traveling to Indiana…and together with Sam…not apart…_

Her decision was made. She went inside and crawled into their bed, smiling herself to sleep.

_xxxxx_

Quinn was sitting on the front porch with her mother and Patsy, watching her brothers play in the yard. It was an early June day, and she expected Sam and Joseph to return from Roanoke that day. Since making her decision and feeling at peace with it, she had found herself smiling, more talkative, more energetic even, excited about seeing Sam and talking about their future plans. The boys were playing their ball and stick game and, Quinn thought, running around like fools. She was snapping beans for supper that night when she heard a familiar clip-clop approaching. _Clyde! I'd know Clyde anywhere! _she thought giddily, setting the bowl of beans down and stepping off the porch. She took a few steps toward the drive, hearing the horses get closer and closer, and then saw her husband, sitting high atop his stallion, turning into the drive, riding toward her.

Sam and Joseph were nearing the Fabray homestead and had their horses loping along, enjoying the spring day. Joseph had been asking him about Indiana and the travel there and if Quinn would be agreeable to it. _Maybe that's why I'm taking my sweet time getting home_, Sam thought, knowing he'd have to discuss going to Indiana with Quinn. _I'm the man, though, her husband, and she'll do as I say, but I don't want to force this on her_.

"I'm not sure how Quinn will react, Joe. She says she'll go with me to Indiana, but I honestly don't think her heart is in it...I think she loves it here too much to leave," Sam told Joseph, glancing over at him. "Did you ever write to Nancy Ann?"

Joseph smiled. "I did."

"And? What did you tell her?" Sam liked needling the young boy.

"That I enjoyed her correspondence and her company when she visited. And that I admired her quite a bit..." Joseph was now blushing.

"Do you know when she'll be returning?"

"She's coming to spend the summer with Grandmother Feazel. Father has asked me to help your Uncle Phillip there this summer."

Sam smiled. Thomas Fabray was a smart man. "I see. You'll be sure to write me about Grandma Feazel, correct?" Sam winked at him.

"Sure, Sam...that's what I'll write about..." Joseph laughed.

They were approaching the Fabray drive and turned down it. As they neared the house, Sam realized Quinn was stepping off the porch, there to greet him. He goaded Clyde faster.

She stood there in a blue work dress, an apron on, her bonnet tied around her neck but hanging on her shoulders. The breeze picked up a few strands of her blonde hair that had come loose from her braid, and he saw her wringing her hands. She was there, waiting on him, but nervous.

He stopped Clyde just short of her and dismounted quickly, pulling her into an embrace, in the broad daylight and in front of her family. He couldn't remember the last time he had held her in his arms with such passion. He felt her fingers ticking the back of his neck, then felt her lips softly kiss his cheek.

"Welcome home, husband," she whispered.

_xxxxx_

All through the rest of the afternoon and through supper, Sam felt her eyes on him or she was near him, touching him in some manner. She was bright and talkative that day, even interested in the map of the Wilderness Road. Her father examined the map and talked to Sam about the route he planned on taking. Quinn had found a spot to sit on his knee, and he was having a bit of trouble concentrating. Miranda reminded Thomas of her brother who lived in Louisville, Kentucky. He lived close to the Ohio River, she said, and worked as a flat boat operator, maybe Sam and Quinn could locate him?

"His name is Jonathon Palmer; he is older than me by 2 years," she told them. She told them she was going to write him a letter right then so he'd be expecting them.

"Is this what you both want to do, then?" Thomas asked Sam and Quinn when they were left alone.

"We need to talk about it further, sir. We'll let you know by t'morrow," Sam answered, reaching for Quinn's hand.

"Shall we take a walk?" she asked Sam quietly.

They locked eyes. "Sure, I'd love that," he replied.

They left the house and strolled down the drive hand-in-hand, Quinn humming a hymn she knew from church.

"You have such a beautiful voice, Quinn Amelia. I could listen to you all day and all night," he told her.

"That is entirely a possibility in our near future, Samuel," she said, wrapping her arm around his as they neared the gate.

"And why is that?"

"We'll be spending a lot of time together on our adventure."

"Adventure?"

"To Indiana. I know you want to go and I want to go too. I don't want to be anywhere where you're not, Sam," she said quietly, stopping to face him, gripping his upper arms.

"And I don't want to be anywhere without you..." he said, leaning into her hesitantly to kiss her.

It had been awhile since they had kissed more than anything beyond a simple peck on the lips. He moved slowly on her mouth, feeling her respond. She dropped her hands to his hips, pulling him in closer, and parted her lips, touching his tongue with hers. He mumbled against her lips, wrapping his arms around her, pressing their bodies together.

"What?" she asked, stopping the kissing.

He stood there slack-jawed for a moment. "I've missed you..." he said finally.

"I've missed you, too, Samuel..." she whispered. She moved her hand between his legs, rubbing his erection up and down. "C'mere..."

She took his hand and led him away from the fence to a tree in the shadows. "I want to do something for you..."

She had been contemplating this for some time and now seemed to be the right time. Even though she had touched his manhood and felt him enter her many times, she wanted to try something new. She turned him around so he was leaning against the oak. In his mind, he was hoping their dry spell was over and maybe this was her way of coming back to him intimately. He really wasn't sure what was about to happen.

She leaned against him, kissing him urgently. "Do you trust me?" she asked.

He was confused. "Of course I trust you, Qu-"

Before he realized what was happening, she dropped to her knees in front of him. He looked down at her; she looked up at him...and reached to unfasten his trousers.

"Quinn, what are you..." About that time, she wrapped her hand around his cock, and he shuddered a bit and sucked in his breath and stopped talking. He felt his trousers slip down to his feet. Unconsciously, he jutted his hips toward her.

With her hand still on his cock, she began placing light kisses on his thighs, moving upward slowly. When she was eye level with the wrinkly skin hanging below his penis, she kissed him there and heard him moan her name above her.

The feeling was unbelievable to him...first, little kisses up his thighs, feeling her getting closer and closer to his manhood, then her warm soft lips on his scrotum...he wanted to die.

She straightened herself on her knees and holding his cock up, kissed her way up it until she was at the top. She could feel him quivering under her hands. She had never seen it so up close before. It was dark out, of course, but she could make out enough in the moonlight of what he looked like. The organ was radiating heat and was rigid though the skin overlying moved easily over him. He was hairy there, and sweaty. She decided to kiss him there just like she would his mouth. She did so and began darting her tongue out on him. She felt his hand join hers, gripping himself, and he directed his penis into her mouth gently.

When he felt her lips wrap around the head of his cock, he gripped the tree with his free hand and braced himself. His cock sliding in and out of her mouth slowly was sensational. His heart felt like it would explode out of his chest. He was having a difficult time understanding what was occurring; he had had his mouth on her a number of times but never had it happened this way, her mouth on him.

She really wasn't sure what to do, so she just moved up and down on him. Judging by the occasional grunt and moan, she guessed she was doing something right. He kept his hand on the base of his shaft, and she gripped both of his thighs. He slowly began moving his hips with her mouth, thinking of anything to take his mind off how it felt when she sucked on his cock. None of his imagery tricks were working and he felt the buildup, the warmth and tingling in his low belly, and knew he was about there.

He pushed at her shoulder, needing to push her away from his organ. He couldn't even form the words to tell her to move.

"Qui- uh...uh...umm..."

She hummed on his cock then, shaking her head a bit from side to side.

He gripped the tree with both hands then and let it blast out of him, muttering an almost painful-sounding _ohhhh_ when he did.

Her mouth was suddenly full of bitter-tasting hot fluid; she knew he had tried to warn her but there was so much of it that it was overwhelming. She pulled off him quickly and spat it out. She used her hand on him slowly, feeling the fluid still coming from him, running down her hand, then her arm. Suddenly, he groaned and slumped down to the ground.

"My knees gave out..." he mumbled to her.

She moved up onto his bare lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder, feeling his heavy breaths against her.

"I've never, ever felt anything like that before, Quinn...it was just..." he paused. "I don't have words for it."

She kissed his neck. "I want us to be close again - like that - I'm just not ready yet..."

He hugged her to him. "I understand, Quinn. Whatever time you need...I'll be with you..."

She ran her hand up his chest and rested it over his still quickly beating heart.

"Let's go look at the stars, Sam..." she said finally, standing up and helping him up. He quickly pulled up his trousers and joined her at the gate, gazing up at the expanse of the night sky.

"So, an adventure, huh?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her low back. She looked at him, smiling.

"An adventure..."

**A/N: Sorry for the delay folks! Holidays and such! I have a huge favor to ask of you all...I've posted a short story on fictionpress dot com. I would greatly appreciate it if you could take a few minutes to read & review for me. My author name there is mandorac also and I've only posted the one story (the title is Possible). Thank you in advance for your time! :)**


	23. Journey

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 23-Journey**

**Franklin County, Virginia/Stokes County, North Carolina, June 1818**

The very next day, Sam and Quinn wrote letters, Sam to his father and Quinn to Anne Harter. They had decided to leave as soon as possible to travel during the summer months, get to Indiana, and hopefully find available land to prepare for planting in the spring. Sam was fairly sure there would be many trees to clear on any land they chose, plus they would need some sort of shelter. With David Harter's help and hired hands, he was sure a one-room cabin could be built in only a few days.

They had to decide what few items to take with them. Sam's horse would be pulling the wagon, plus a horse Sam purchased. He also bought a rickety wagon. So, the load could not be too heavy for the two horses. Quinn had to determine what provisions were most needed for them. They expected the travel to take at the very least two months. They planned to leave on July 1st.

She sat in their cabin while he worked in the workshop on a humid rainy summer day. She had three boxes in which to pack their belongings. One box was for cooking items, one box for Sam's items, and one box for her items. She placed the letter box Sam made her in her box first, then her paint brushes and a few paints. He had already told her that her easel could go with them. She tucked in her certificate of completion of her schooling and the two small books her father had given her. In his box, she packed his first journal and his picture of his late wife and the two pictures she painted for him that he had framed. His letter from Captain Trimble was packed safely, plus the map he had copied in Roanoke. His mother's Bible was packed on top of everything else. Thomas had told Sam that they could take two chairs and a table from the workshop. Quinn also busied herself with mending all of their clothing for the trip, and one day Sam took her to Rocky Mount to fit them both for new footwear, boots for both of them. Quinn planned on taking her work clothing and only one nice dress, her brown satin with black piping that her father had brought her. She was bringing her wedding gown but only if they needed to sell it or she could possibly hand it down to a future daughter. Sam was bringing all his work clothes, plus his two suits and the suit his father had given him to be married in.

The week before they left, they received replies from Sam's father and the Harters. They planned on visiting Aaron Evans' farm after leaving Franklin County, then they'd pick up the Wilderness Road from there. The Harters shared information on how to find their settlement in Indiana, called Symonds Creek, and said they were very much looking forward to Sam and Quinn joining them. Miranda's brother had written also, Jon Palmer of Louisville, Kentucky. He said he'd be happy to house Sam and Quinn for however long they needed. Sam copied the details of his letter in his journal so that they could find him when they reached Louisville. They packed David Harter's letter.

The hardest part, before they even began their journey, was saying their goodbyes. Quinn spent a day at Kate's cabin, mostly holding Jimmy while Kate did her chores. They talked about their memories of growing up together and how big Jimmy was getting. Kate told her that James was hoping to buy their own land soon, maybe 10 acres, and build them a decent-sized home, maybe the land adjacent to Peyton and Martha. Quinn was a little saddened by that, thinking of how she and Sam could've done the same, then the six of them would've lived next to one another for all their days.

"It's so…interesting…how life can change so much so quickly," Quinn said quietly, shushing a whiny Jimmy.

"You are very correct, sister. I'll miss you horribly," Kate said quickly, tearing up.

"Please don't cry, Kate. I just can't take it. Do you have paper and a pencil? I'll write down where to send correspondence…" Quinn said, bouncing Jimmy on her knee. "I'll sure miss this little man!"

Kate brought her paper and a pencil. "You're so good with him, so patient. Quinn, you will make the best mother. I know you miss Samuel Junior. I'm sure he's cradled in Sam's mother's arms."

Quinn looked up at Kate, her eyes brimming with tears but none falling. "Of that I'm sure." She wrote down her and Sam's information and hugged and kissed Jimmy, handing him back to Kate.

"I need to return to the cabin; there's always something to be done," Quinn said. She stood up and hugged her sister tightly. They kissed one another's cheek, and Quinn stepped out onto the porch, noting the storm clouds gathering overhead.

"I love you Catherine…you have been the best sister a girl could ever have," Quinn said, smiling. "Don't forget to write."

"I'll write you, Quinn. I'll be praying for your safe travel," Kate said, snuggling Jimmy close to her. "I love you too!"

Kate watched Quinn drive down the lane and waved when she reached the road and turned toward home.

That evening, Sam and Quinn sat on their porch until the storm was raging above them and they ran inside. They crawled into their bed and lay there listening to the rain and thunder crash above them. The lightening was bright and searing, making the air crackle.

"What if we have a storm like this while we travel?" Quinn asked.

"Hopefully we can find decent shelter," Sam replied. "How was your visit with Kate and little Jimmy?"

"Fine but sad. I'll miss them so," Quinn said. She felt his hand reach for her hand beneath their quilt.

He rolled toward her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He kissed her neck, nuzzling at her shoulder. His hand was gently moving up and down her thigh, working her shift upward. She put her hand on his, stopping him.

"Not tonight, Sam. It's that time," she said emotionlessly.

He sighed in disappointment. "This might be our last time in our cabin…"

"I'm sorry, Sam…"

She rolled on her side, her back toward him. She didn't lie about it being her monthly. She just couldn't bear to talk to him about her fear of intimacy.

_xxxxx_

The next visit for Sam and Quinn was to his Grandmother Feazel's. Sam and Quinn decided to walk there through what they had come to think of as "their woods." Sam's Uncle Phillip and his cousin Sarah were present. His grandmother seemed as spry as always. She offered them lemonade since it was another hot and humid day. They all sat on the porch of the farmhouse discussing Indiana and the route Sam and Quinn were taking.

"Samuel, I am so happy you returned to Virginia for the time you did. It has done wonders for my achy heart," his grandmother told him. "And I'm still so happy you found happiness with Miss Quinny."

Sam and Quinn looked at each other, smiling. It had been strained lately with the loss of their baby and the plans to move, but he felt genuine happiness when looking at Quinn and hoped she felt the same for him.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm also glad I returned," he replied. "I've written down where to write to us; please try to write often." He pulled the paper from his pocket and handed it to his grandmother. He stood then and hugged the elderly woman.

"Quinn and I need to visit the graves. We'll miss you all," he said solemnly. He shook his uncle's hand and hugged his cousin, as did Quinn.

It was an awkward moment on the porch; Sam hated saying goodbye to those he loved.

He took Quinn's hand and led her around the house to the family burial ground. It was the first time she had been back there since they laid the baby to rest. She held her breath as they approached. He looked over at her, noting her stoic expression, and gripped her hand tighter.

Someone had laid colorful wildflowers at both headstones. Suddenly, Quinn was angry with herself that she had not once brought flowers to the graves, or even come to visit.

"The flowers are beautiful," she whispered.

"Do you like them?" he asked. She looked up at him. A light breeze picked up his longish hair as he had removed his hat; his eyes shiny with unshed tears.

"You brought them?"

"Mhmm…"

She dropped her hand from his and sunk down on her knees at her son's grave, crying softly. He sat down next to her and didn't say anything until it passed. She picked up the flowers and sniffed them, wiping her tears away.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

He rubbed her back, squeezed her shoulder.

"Ma, my wife and I are leaving in just a couple days on a journey. We are traveling to a state called Indiana to be owners of land there. We're both a bit nervous about the length of travel, but we'll be fine, we have each other. My brother-in-law Joseph will be bringing you flowers for me often. Even though I don't remember meeting you, I'll never forget you," he said quietly.

Quinn reached for Sam's hand again.

"Like your father said, dear son, though we only met briefly we'll never forget you," she said, barely able to say those few words.

They sat there silently for a bit longer, then stood up and walked quietly through their woods one last time, past the heart carved into the tree, over the creek, past the shack.

_xxxxx_

July 1st began hot and humid. The wagon was packed already; their cabin emptied of all of what they held dear. Breakfast was being served at the main house so the family could be together one final time before Sam and Quinn left. Sam wanted to get an early start as he figured it'd take at least a week to get to his father's farm.

There was a lot to eat for breakfast. Miranda and Patsy prepared foodstuff for Sam and Quinn's trip, hopefully enough to last until they reached Stokes County. Quinn busied herself that early morning in her mother's kitchen, helping prepare the meal. Sam joined the menfolk at the dining room table, discussing their travel.

"It's a good thing you and Quinny get along so good," Thomas Junior said.

"So _well_," Thomas Senior corrected. "Yes, I agree. You two are compatible and should make your journey easier."

Sam nodded in agreement. "We'll miss you all though."

"We'll miss you both, as well," Joseph said.

Sam nodded at the boy. He had grown to think of Joseph as his younger brother.

Talk turned to traveling in different weather, care of the horses and of the wagon, watching for wild animals and Indians and other villains that lay in wait for pilgrims. Thomas suggested that Sam and Quinn join a large group of travelers for safety purposes. Sam agreed with that idea and assured Thomas that he would try to find a group of travelers.

In the kitchen, the ladies shared stories to try to lighten the mood. Quinn worked on the biscuits, Kate with the eggs, Miranda with the ham, Patsy with the potatoes, and Martha just rested as her baby was due any day.

"I hate that I'm going to miss the birth," Quinn told her.

"I had so hoped it would happen before you left," Martha said, standing and hugging Quinn quickly.

"You'll do fine, I'm sure," Quinn said, forcing a smile. It seemed that was all she did lately, force a smile. Except for when she played with Jimmy. He always lit up her day and could make her smile for real.

"Quinny, dear, could you feed Jimmy for me, please? I'll finish your biscuits," Kate asked her.

Quinn smiled, for real, and gladly picked up Jimmy and took him to the sitting room. Kate had given her a small dish of grits and a spoon. Sam watched her as she passed through the dining room, thinking how holding a child she looked complete, serene. She glanced at Sam just as she left the room, her face flushed from working in the hot kitchen but a smile playing at her lips. He followed her into the sitting room.

She sat down with Jimmy on her knee. Sam sat down next to them, and she handed him the bowl of grits.

"Is this too hot?" he asked as she dipped the spoon into the cereal. She tasted it.

"I think it's okay," she said, offering the spoon to Jimmy who eagerly slurped the warm cereal from the utensil.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked her.

"As ready as I'm going to be…" she replied, babbling to Jimmy. "I'll probably miss this little boy the most."

"You've become quite attached to him, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have."

They sat there in silence for awhile as she fed Jimmy.

Finally, he wrapped his arm around her. "We'll be okay, Quinn Amelia. We can even come back to visit."

She looked at him, her eyes glassy, knowing in her heart that the odds of making the trip back to Virginia, then back to Indiana, was most likely out of the question.

"This shall be an adventure," she said, again forcing a smile.

He kissed her softly on the cheek and returned to the dining room.

_xxxxx_

Breakfast was a lively meal that day. They finished just as the sun rose. Quinn tied her bonnet under her chin as she waited on Sam to bring the wagon around to the front of the house. She took that time to hug her family members one final time. Her three brothers hugged her quickly, then helped Sam make sure the wagon was ready to go. She hugged Kate and Martha and Jimmy. Then, her mother and father hugged her quickly. She bit her lip as Sam helped her up onto the wagon bench. They all knew saying goodbye needed to be brief or else it just made it harder to prod the horses down the drive. Quinn sat on the bench while Sam said goodbye to Quinn's family. He hugged Miranda and shook Thomas' hand, thanking them both for all they had done for him and Quinn. He stepped around to his side of the wagon and pulled himself up to the bench. He looked at Quinn quickly before snapping the reins. The wagon lurched forward and their adventure began.

_xxxxx_

**Traveling through southern Virginia, July 1818**

Sam drove the wagon southward through Franklin County until they passed a worn sign stating Henry County. The ride thus far had been quiet. The heat had increased after they stopped for a quick lunch, and Sam stripped off his shirt. There was very little shade along the road they took, and Quinn constantly fanned herself with a thin plank of wood Sam had given her. Thomas had told Sam to take the first road to the west after entering Henry County. That road would take them to Patrick County. They had traveled an hour before the first road to the west appeared. He turned right and they kept on until sunset.

"Shall we set up camp now, Sam?" she asked, noticing they were now traveling parallel to a small river. He noticed the river also.

"Sure…at the next grove of trees," he replied.

He pulled their rig over at the next bunch of trees. He was able to pull off the road a little so that they were only a few feet away from the riverbank. Quinn hopped down off the wagon and went to the edge of the water, squatting down and dipping her hands into the coolness and splashing her face. The heat was oppressive. Sam joined her after tying up the horses. He splashed his face, as well, then filled a bucket of water for the horses. Quinn started a small campfire for their small supper and began preparing it.

Sam returned with some more kindling and the two chairs.

"It's almost so hot we don't need a fire," he said, laughing a little.

"This is true," Quinn agreed.

They ate their supper, then cleaned up from it and put the fire out. Once the sun had set, they decided to take a dip in the river water to cool off. Sam set up their sleep pallet before swimming so they could dry off and crawl right into their makeshift bed afterward.

They stripped down naked next to the water and walked into the water slowly, relishing the coolness. Quinn dipped underwater a few times as did Sam. He made his way over to her, enveloping her in his strong arms. He said nothing, just held her.

"It's been a good day, right?" she asked him quietly. He looked at the moonlight glistening off the slowly moving water, her skin shining with beads of water.

"Yes, Quinn, a good day," he answered, kissing her gently.

They left the river and dried off quickly. Quinn donned a clean shift; Sam slept naked due to the heat of the night. Before sleeping, though, he opened his journal and penned the following:

_Jul 1, '18, Wed Quinn and I began our adventure this day. We are traveling to Indiana to find land. It has been a good day, tho hot._

He lay down on his back, lacing his hands behind his head, Quinn curled up her side next to him. In the quiet of the night, he heard her quiet weeping. He rolled toward her, hugging her to him tightly.

"I'm here, Quinn…talk to me…" he said quietly behind her.

"It's just an…an adjustment…" she mumbled, sniffling.

"I know, Quinn…we'll be okay…I promise you that," he whispered, kissing her softly.

She rolled over to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him back.

"I'm so sorry, Sam…I want to come to you…to be your _wife _again…in that sense…I do…"

"I told you to take as much time as you need to…" he interrupted. He brushed her damp hair back. "Whenever you're ready, Quinn."

"I love you, Samuel," she whispered, drifting off to sleep.

He kissed her when he heard her light snoring and said _I love you too_.

_xxxxx_

The heat woke them the next day. And the bugs. They set out before the sun rose hoping to make some good travel before the high heat and humidity of midday draped over them.

The horses plodded along through Henry County, westward. Sam and Quinn were silent, nothing really to say. She fanned him every once in a while, then would fan herself; both were sweating profusely though. They took a break for their noon meal when they came upon some shade trees.

"Rain would be nice," Sam said quietly.

"It would be a blessing," she agreed.

Sam stripped off his shirt for their afternoon travel. So far, the horses were doing okay as was the wagon, though Sam knew at some point he'd have repairs to make or they'd have to purchase another one.

During their afternoon travel, Sam saw motion from the corner of his eye and whispered to Quinn to retrieve his bow and arrow from the wagon. They were within reach, and she handed them to him quickly. He slowed the horses to a stop and aimed the arrow to his left. He dropped the bow, handed the reins to Quinn, and jumped down from the wagon. He returned with a chicken.

"Supper tonight!" he proclaimed, holding the bird up by its legs. Quinn clapped her hands. Meat would be good.

He removed his arrow and tossed the chicken in the back of the wagon.

They continued down the road, passing an occasional farmhouse or cabin or shack. They had not passed anything that resembled even a small town to that point. They expected to stop in a town called Greenville in Grayson County but that was still days of travel away. The sky was bright, cloudless, the heat blanketed them.

As the sun began to set, they finally found a place to camp for the night. It appeared to be an abandoned farm and Sam hoped there was a well nearby. While Quinn cleaned the chicken, he wandered around, eventually finding the well. He filled the two bottles he had brought with him, corked them, and returned to their campsite. Quinn was dredging the fryer pieces in breading, the fat already popping over the fire. Although the thought of chicken sounded wonderful, starting a campfire in that heat was awful.

Over supper, Quinn said to Sam, "You need to teach me how to shoot your gun."

He looked up at her, the low flames casting shadows across her face.

"I'll show you how to bow hunt," he replied.

"I need to know how to use your gun, Sam," she insisted.

He sighed. He had not pursued this subject after her remark about turning the gun on herself, hoping she'd forget his offer.

"Fine. I'll show you how to shoot, but you must promise me that you'd never do anything to harm yourself," he said finally.

She moved over to Sam and sat on his knee. He wrapped his bare arms around her, and she walked her fingers up and down his arm.

"I apologize for saying something so hateful, Samuel. My frame of mind just wasn't...right..." she said, pecking him on his scruffy cheek. "I promise, I'd only shoot it if we were in danger."

"You just don't know what I'd do without you, Quinn..." he said to her. "Once we go through Greenville, I'll show you how to fire it. I need more bullets."

She knew he made his own bullets but traveling and the heat precluded that now.

"Maybe I should have my own gun," she told him.

"We'll see..."

_xxxxx_

The next day, they crossed into Patrick County. Sam was told by Thomas there'd be a fairly significant main road of travel running north-south and that they should head southward on it, toward Greenville. They didn't cross it that day but did find a swimming hole to cool off in. So far, only the awful heat was bothering Quinn as they traveled. She didn't have the luxury of stripping down to being nearly naked like Sam did and had to stay in her work clothes all day long. They were still in the familiar territory of Virginia so she wasn't feeling too lonely or missing her family too much. She had been composing a letter to send to them from Greenville, detailing what little there was to share about their travel to that point. She asked them to reply to her by sending any letters to Sam's father's farm in North Carolina. It made her smile to think she might have correspondence waiting on her there when they arrived.

On their second day in Patrick County was nearing the end, they came upon a large road with a sign pointing southward to Greenville. The road was called New River Road and ran parallel to a river that Sam assumed was called New River. They were both happy to see not only that road but the cool rushing water. That night they skinny-dipped again under the stars and again curled up next to one another, Quinn using her hand on Sam, watching him explode onto his naked belly in the moonlight. Afterward, he kissed her and they fell asleep.

They headed southward, passing through the rest of Patrick County in two days, finally reaching Grayson County. Grayson County was the last county to travel through before reaching North Carolina and Stokes County was on the other side of the state border. Grayson County also held Greenville and both Sam and Quinn were ready to stop in a real town. They had been on the road for 6 days.

"We're making pretty decent time, I'd say," Sam told her, hoping to reach Greenville before nightfall.

"Only the lack of rain and heat seem to be against us. Of course, if there was a deluge of rain, we might be stuck in the mud and we've had the good fortune of traveling near water..." she said.

"True, we don't need muddy roads. Your father said some of the roads heading west are lined with gravel..."

She looked at him quizzically.

"Lots and lots of tiny rocks..." he explained.

"Oh! Wouldn't that be nice!"

A few hours later, they were nearing Greenville. The fact that the dirt road turned to road paved with bricks tipped them off.

"Brick roads?" she said to Sam incredulously. "This is even fancier than Richmond!"

Sam smiled at her happiness. They pulled into town near dusk, and it was still bustling. Sam found lodging and rented them a room, then took the wagon and horses to the livery. He returned to find Quinn already soaking in a tub.

"That looks glorious," he said, not really meaning the bath but the person it contained.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Join me...there's enough room."

He latched their door and opened the window more, letting in a slight breeze. He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his boots, then stood and undressed in front of her. She watched his every movement, feeling a familiar stirring in her loins..._she wanted him_. Would she let it go that far? She wasn't sure she was ready, even though it had been nearly 4 months since the miscarriage. He had been exceedingly patient with her, but being intimate with him again scared her. And she was afraid to tell him why.

She scooted forward in the tub and gave him room behind her. He stepped in and slid down slowly, inwardly happy that she was allowing such closeness.

He took the rag she had draped over the side of the tub and dipped it in the warm water and started at her shoulders, massaging his way downward. She felt his lips on her skin and she shivered from the chills it caused. His hands moved down her arms and over her breasts, his lips never leaving the sensitive flesh at the nape of her neck. He moved his mouth to her shoulder and let her head drop back against him. In the candlelight, her breasts were shiny, her nipples erect. He watched his callused hands move over them as gently as he could muster. He saw her belly rising and falling from the water with her breathing. He dipped a hand lower, trailing down to her navel.

"May I?" he asked against her neck.

Her eyes were closed, enjoying the touch of his hand on her body and feeling his manhood press against her back. She nodded and turned her head to kiss him. His lips found hers and his hand slipped down between her legs. Even in the water of the bath, he could feel hear heat, how swollen she was. He badly wanted to lift her up and slip his cock up into her but also didn't want to push anything.

When his finger slipped between her folds, under the water, she sucked in her breath and bit down on her lip. His other hand was still massaging her breast, his lips planting kisses where he could reach, sometimes on her lips and she'd moan into his mouth. The center of her body was on fire, as if the touch of his middle finger was setting her alight. He rubbed her up and down, down to her entrance, then slowly back up to the point where her body would tremble. He added a second finger, catching that most sensitive area in between his fingers, squeezing gently, then slipping his fingers downward and inward. At some point, she realized his other hand had left her breast; she felt it between them; he had gripped his length and was stroking himself as he stroked her. He could tell she was aroused by the way she was reacting; he couldn't understand why she was holding back from intimacy with him though. He leaned into her more, moving his fingers up into her, using his thumb on the bump that usually caused her to lose control. She was rocking her hips into his hand, whispering his name. She had worked an arm behind his shoulders and had weaved her fingers into his hair; he was losing all concentration.

He heard himself begging her. "Please, Quinn, _please_..." He had vowed to himself not to push her, but the position he found himself in was nearly unbearable. He could feel her heat engulfing his fingers and wanted his manhood in her, to be _one_.

Her breathing suddenly became panting, whimpers, as her entire body tensed up, then convulsed in the water. Her pleasure was radiating off her, and he followed suit, coming with a grunt behind her. She felt the hot liquid squirt up her back but couldn't really comprehend what it was at the moment as every time his thumb bumped that one area between her legs jolts of pleasure coursed through her. They were breathing gasping for breath at the end of it. She then felt Sam clean her back off with the rag. The water had cooled and the breeze was causing them both to shiver. He finally got up and stepped out and dried off quickly, then helped her up and out, wrapping her in the towel with him.

"I love you, Quinn," he said quietly to her.

"And I love you, Samuel," she replied.

_xxxxx_

The following day, Quinn finished her letter to her family and they added it to the mail going out from the tavern next door to the hotel. She and Sam retrieved the wagon from the livery, then visited the general store in Greenville to replenish any supplies and Sam needed more bullets. The proprietor at the store was talking to other men about the drought and how they could feel rain coming by the way their joints ached. Sam and Quinn shared a knowing glance, as in the old coots knew nothing of what they spoke. They loaded up their new load of supplies and headed out of Greenville toward North Carolina. The day stayed dry as a bone as they traveled southward.

On day number eight of their travel, they reached the Virginia/North Carolina state border. Quinn had never stepped foot outside Virginia so this was definitely new territory for her. She felt nervous though nothing about the scenery changed whatsoever. An hour after they crossed into North Carolina and Stokes County, one of the axles on their wagon cracked. They pulled over to make camp for the day.

Sam unhitched the horses and tied them up at a nearby tree in the meadow they were in. He unloaded most of their heavier items from the wagon, then braced the front wheels of the rig and jacked up the back where they had heard the snap.

"I'm just glad we're a day or so from my father's farm," he told Quinn.

"We're in Stokes County, though, aren't we close?"

"He lives in the southernmost part of the county," Sam answered, crawling back and forth from underneath the wagon with tools and shims of wood. Quinn crossed her arms and sighed. She pulled a chair to the shade and sat down, watching Sam's boots poking out from beneath the wagon. She had expected something like this to happen with the ramshackle rig he bought but didn't think it'd happen so soon.

Quinn felt exceedingly grumpy, fanning herself in the shade. "You know, maybe you should've checked that wheel in Greenville."

Under the wagon, he sighed. He knew the heat and fatigue of travel was getting to her and now this setback.

"Quinn, I'm doing the best I can," he called from under the wagon.

She sat there in the heat, ashamed of herself for speaking to him in such a manner. In her mind, she most certainly deserved a thrashing for the tone of voice she used with him. She bit her lip and tapped her foot to keep from saying anymore.

"Quinn!" he called.

She got up from the chair and went to the back of the wagon.

"Yes, Sam?"

"I need that leather strap…do you know what I'm talking about?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I think I know what a leather strap is, Sam!" she snapped. She took a deep breath. "Is it safe for me to get in the wagon?"

"Yeah…" he said, biting his own tongue.

He heard her climb up into the wagon; the weight shifted above him slightly. He heard her moving through their belongings.

It was like a cookstove in the covered wagon, Quinn thought, moving their items around looking for the leather straps. _Where is that damn thing? _she thought.

From beneath her, Sam said, "I think it's in that box at the back…"

She rolled her eyes again and moved toward those boxes. She found a box of his tools and found a leather strap at the bottom of it. She crawled down from the wagon and handed the strap to him. She went back to her chair in the shade.

Sam worked on the axle for at least another hour, finally getting it fixed to where he thought it'd make it to his father's farm. There was still daylight left, so Sam hitched the team back up to the wagon and they set off again.

As the sun set on the horizon, they pulled off the road to make camp. The travel from the time of fixing the wagon to pulling over for the night had been silent between the two of them.

After Sam took care of the horses, he watched Quinn pulling items out of the wagon to set up their camp.

"You know, I think the axle is goin' to hold up 'til we get to-"

"Who knows Sam? We won't get there for days!" She practically spit the words out.

They stood there and stared each other down for a few moments.

"Someone sure has a bee in their bonnet!" he laughed suddenly. Her face turned crimson. She balled her hands into fists and stomped off to the wagon.

Sam felt the wind pick up and glanced at the sky. _Storm moving in_, he thought offhandedly and followed her.

"Quinn, c'mon, I was just pullin' your leg!" he called to her. He found her sitting in the hot wagon, pouting.

"I'm not so sure this wagon will make it to your father's, Sam," she said, not looking at him.

"Sure it will…I'll fix it all up with my pa at his place…it'll get us there," he told her. "It looks like rain, come out of the wagon Quinn."

"Even if it gets us to your pa's, I sincerely doubt it'll get us all the way to the great state of Indiana!"

He was somewhat shocked at how venomous she sounded. Suddenly, she was pushing past him and out of the wagon.

"If it's about to rain, we need to pick up camp," she mumbled.

He followed her to where she had sat their chairs and cooking utensils. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around to face him. Thunder crashed overhead. They both paused and looked upward, then back at each other. Her eyes were flashing anger, as were his.

"What is going on, Quinn?" he practically shouted at her over the wind. The rain had begun to pour in sheets; lightning cracked.

She was sobbing, the rain drenching her, her hands to her face.

"I miss you Sam and I-I don't know how to get you b-back…" she said. He still was holding her arms

"Quinn, I'm right here; I've never gone anywhere!"

She kept crying, not speaking. "Do you mean, _in bed_?" he asked her finally.

She nodded. "I'm so scared, Sam…"

He was dumbfounded. "Scared of what?"

More thunder boomed overhead; he instinctively pulled her close to him.

Next to her ear, he whispered, "Scared of what?"

She was hiccupping with her cries. "Of being with child again."

It all made sense to him finally…her hesitancy in their marital bed after the demise of their baby. He knew then that she thought if there were no relations, there would be no other baby, no other baby to lose.

Then, even over the sound of the howling wind, pouring rain, pounding thunder, and crashes of lightning, he heard her whisper, _I want you Samuel_.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her urgently, then scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the wagon. They were both drenched through to the skin. Quinn laced her hands around Sam's neck and kissed him as he walked them to the wagon. At the wagon, he sat her on the edge, intending on pushing boxes out of the way.

Quinn had other plans. She pushed the suspenders off his shoulders and unfastened his pants. He arched his back while watching her, seeing the bulge in his trousers grow. Suddenly, his pants were at his ankles, and he was pushing her dress up to her hips. He pulled her toward him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. It only took a few moments of rubbing against her center before he was fully erect; he pushed into her all the way, stopping once he was inside her, hearing her whimper a bit at the forcefulness of his thrust. He rested his forehead against hers, kissing her gently on her lips.

She whispered his name and his hips crashed into her again and again and again. The heat around his cock made him lose control and he thrust into her, in and out, until he climaxed so hard his knees nearly gave way.

The entire time he held her at the back of the wagon, she allowed herself to get lost in the feeling of being one with him again. The stress of avoiding him had finally reached its peak as they fought in the rainstorm, and she _needed _him in that moment. He made her feel whole again.

She pushed things out of the way behind her and scooted up into the wagon and he followed her, lying next to her.

"I didn't mean to yell at you," she said finally, when his breathing had returned to normal.

"I understand, Quinn," he said simply, holding her hand.

She glanced down at him, he was still naked from the waist down, his manhood hanging flaccid in a patch of dark brown hair, the sac beneath that reddish in color, wrinkled. She reached out and touched him there. He was still wet from her fluids. She moved the foreskin gently back and forth until it was revealing the head of his penis as he hardened again. She felt him moving her dress back up, then he was over her again, and again they were one.

_xxxxx_

They napped after their lovemaking, falling asleep to the rain on the covered wagon. They awoke in the darkness. The rain had stopped. Sam managed to start a small campfire so they could find something to eat. After supper, they retreated back to the wagon, and she came to him again. This time, she let him undress her completely, then he undressed himself, and she lay on top of him, their bodies pressed together. She opened her legs over him and let him enter her slowly. She moved easily on top of him, staying close to him. He leaned up a bit and took her breast into his mouth. She gripped his shoulders and let him push her all the way up to sitting on him while he was sitting up also.

He looked up at her and whispered _faster_. Both his hands were under her thighs, and he moved her up and down on his shaft quickly, burying his face between her breasts. She grasped his face and pulled him into a kiss when she orgasmed on him. He kept moving into her, grunting and moaning her name, then expelled his seed deep into her, holding her on his lap when he orgasmed. She felt him twitching inside of her, his body shaking under hers.

"Quinn, oh my god..." he gasped out finally, kissing her passionately. "I've missed you so."

She melted into him, resting her head on his shoulder, her hands trailing down his chest, to his belly, to his hips between her legs. "I've missed you too."

They slept in the wagon that night due to more rain moving through and even slept until well past sunrise, due to the cloudy day. The heat woke Quinn. She stretched, smiled, and kissed Sam to wake him. They dressed, ate, and continued on their way.

_xxxxx_

Their wagon did in fact make it to Aaron Evans' farm. The old mare Sam bought in Virginia, though, did not. Sam surmised it was the heat that did her in. He had to put her down, and Quinn cried when she heard the gunshot, even though she wasn't that close to the horse, like she was Clyde. They managed to get to Sam's father's farm with Clyde pulling the load, but it slowed them down a bit.

The farm looked the same to Sam except for a new room attached to the farmhouse. His half-brother Amos was rocking on the front porch, covered in a quilt even though it was sweltering outside. Jane was present as was Sam's half-sister Jane and her two children. It was very apparent that Jane was expecting again. Robert, his other half-brother, was away at college. Sam's father was working on the farm with the man who had fathered Jane's three children. His stepmother said his name was William Dethridge. Sam had a flash of recognition with that name; he had known a boy named Dethridge in the war. Quinn introduced herself to the younger Jane and asked after her children.

At first, Jane seemed wary of Quinn but soon warmed up to her. She told Quinn the children's names were John and Mary, the little boy being older than the girl but not by much.

"Those were Will's folks' names," she told Quinn. Sam overheard and realized John Dethridge was the man he had met during the War of 1812. Sam sat on the porch with young Amos.

"How're you feeling?" Sam asked him.

"Not too awful bad. We haven't seen you in years," Amos said, coughing. "Didn't you run off and marry someone else?"

Sam nodded. "Yes, good memory you have. I married Elizabeth DeWitt and went with her family to Kentucky. She died, though, shortly after we wed."

Amos coughed again. "Pa sure was angry then."

"So I've heard," Sam responded. "Your cough doesn't sound so bad."

"This dry heat helps it...I sounded like death warmed over when the rain moved through a few days ago."

Sam blushed at the memory of him and Quinn in the rain.

"So, your new wife is pretty," Amos said, glancing over at Quinn and Jane playing with the toddlers in the shade.

Sam smiled. "Thank you, Amos. I think so too."

The elder Jane stepped out onto the porch with two glasses of lemonade. "Here boys..."

Sam took his glass, took a sip, and puckered from the tartness. He then asked if there was anything he could do for her around the farm.

"The cows need feedin'," she responded.

"Fine, I'll take care of that when I finish this delicious lemonade. Also, we're needin' to buy another horse. Do you know of any for sale?"

"Your pa would know more about that, not I," she told him.

"Thank you, ma'am, for the lemonade. I'll tend to the cows," he said, standing up, stretching. He went over to where Quinn was sitting in the grass, playing with the young children and his half-sister.

"Hi there Sammy," Jane said to him. Quinn looked up, squinting in the sunlight.

"Hello husband," she said, smiling.

"You two look like you're enjoying the day," he said. He scooped up the little girl, not much older than a year, and spun her around, making her giggle. He took his hat off his head and placed it on her head, making Quinn and Jane laugh.

He set the little girl down and told Quinn he'd be working in the barn if she needed him.

Once the girls were alone again, Jane said to Quinn, "You sure found yourself quite the catch. Most of the girls in this here county set their caps for him."

"For Samuel?" Quinn asked. He had only ever mentioned Elizabeth to her, never anyone else.

"Oh yes. I can't tell you the number of girls who cried when he ran away with the DeWitt girl's family," Jane went on. "What a dismal time that was!"

Quinn decided to change the subject. "So, about your husband..."

"We're not married..."

"Oh, I see..."

"Ma and Pa say we're living in sin but I don't believe all that. Once he saves enough money, we'll be on our way," Jane said, sighing.

"Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but here. It's hard living with the fact that Amos could up and be dead any day and Robert is off to college...Will and I just have the room pa added on...we're ready to be on our own."

"What does Will do?"

Jane looked at Quinn strangely. "What does he do? He works on pa's farm, that's what he does. His pa is a tinsmith; I told him he should've apprenticed under him but he ignored me."

Quinn played with the little boy. "He reminds me a bit of my nephew back home, Jimmy." She wondered how they were doing back home and also wondered if they would receive any mail while they visited the Evans'. "He's only about 7 months old though. I miss him."

"I bet you do! I know I'd miss these two if I had to be away from them," Jane told her.

"My sister-in-law has probably had her baby by now. When do you expect yours?" Quinn asked.

"I've got a couple more months, I'd say."

"Do you think it's a boy or girl?"

"The way it kicks my guess is twins!" They laughed. "I'm not sure; I'm carrying this one like I did John but I feel the same as when I carried Mary, so I just don't know."

"Any names picked out?"

"Aaron if it's a boy; Sarah for a girl," Jane said. "Sarah is my middle name."

"Those are nice names," Quinn said, smiling.

"I'm sorry for your loss; pa read Sam's letter to us," Jane said quietly.

"Thank you. I never expected that to happen," Quinn replied.

"Have faith; it'll happen for you and Sam." Jane reached over and squeezed Quinn's hand.

"I pray we have children someday," Quinn replied. Mrs. Evans called to the girls from the farmhouse porch, so they returned inside to help prepare supper.

_xxxxx_

When Aaron and William returned from the fields, Aaron was surprised to see Sam and Quinn had arrived so soon. He was happy, though, to see them, hugging them both, whispering to Quinn that he had prayed for her strength. She thanked him and the conversation turned to their travel thus far, Aaron's farm, Sam's carpentry work, Sam's wagon needing repaired, his letter about the land in Indiana. Aaron knew of a neighbor with horses for sale so after supper Sam, Aaron, and William left on horseback to visit the horse dealer.

As they went down the roads at a trot, Aaron asked Sam, "Your pretty wife doesn't quite have the shine in her eyes like she did on your wedding day. Is she still mourning?"

"Yes, sir," Sam replied. "She's coming around though." Sam again blushed at the thought of their recent night together.

"It affects people in different ways. I am sorry that it happened to you and her; she sure is good people," Aaron said quietly.

"Jane sure has taken to her," William added. "And Jane doesn't like anyone!"

The men chuckled.

"I can already tell Quinn is attached to your young'uns…she loves the little ones," Sam said.

"She'll make a fine mother," Aaron added.

They arrived at the horse dealer, Sam chose a sturdy work horse, finally agreed on a price, and then headed back to the Evans'. When they returned to the farm, Sam found Quinn and took her to show her the new horse.

"His name is Buddy," Sam told her, as he stroked the horse's mane.

"He's a good-looking horse, Sam," she said, smiling. He was the color of coffee, she thought, and seemed gentle.

"He is and I got him for a steal!"

"Samuel! You paid what he's worth, I'm sure," she admonished.

"Of course! The seller was asking too much to begin with!"

"After supper, let's take him for a ride, shall we?" she asked.

"Sure, sounds like a fine plan," he replied.

_xxxxx_

Sam mounted Buddy first, then helped Quinn up to ride him side-saddle in front of him. He started Buddy at a walk, then a lope, then a trot around the countryside near his father's farm. He showed her farms he worked on during the years he lived there, showing her roofs he had helped put on barns. They rode past the barn where Elizabeth had kissed him out of the blue when he was 15. He took the horse into the town of Salem where he'd go with his father for supplies when he was a boy. There was a small park there next to a small stream. They stopped there to rest.

"This is nice. Do you know what it's called?" she asked him as they walked into the wooden structure. There were benches and intricate latticework.

"It's called a gazebo," he answered. "I helped build it."

She sat down, watching the water trickle downstream. "This is so peaceful."

He sat down with her, watching her watch the stream. "Yes, peaceful…"

After a couple minutes, he said, "I wish I had better memories of being here when I was a boy."

She turned to him and took his hand. "Well, this is where you met Elizabeth, and that's a good memory for you."

He smiled a little, looking down at their fingers interlaced together.

"That is one good memory from here, I s'pose," he replied. "T'morrow, I'll return here to pick up supplies for the next leg of our journey."

"I'll stay at your pa's farm and help Jane," she said, smiling.

They stood and walked back to Buddy. Sam realized he had made one other good memory in the small town of Salem that day, with Quinn.

_xxxxx_

The next day, Sam and William rode into Salem to procure more supplies, and Quinn stayed at the farm and helped Jane with her chores, then played with the babies. They had received letters from home and all was fine there. Martha had had her baby, a boy, and named him Palmer Peyton Fabray. Quinn said to the others that that name was 'a mouthful'. The letter stated that they were missed terribly. Joseph had been working at Grandmother Feazel's farm and doing fine there. Kate and Jimmy were doing fine; James Martin was working hard to buy some land of their own. Quinn penned a letter home and when Sam returned he added a few words for his grandmother, and Aaron assured them he'd take it to Salem the next day to be mailed. Sam wrote a letter to the Harters and to Jon Palmer in Louisville, Kentucky, telling them of his and Quinn's progress thus far. Sam and Quinn were leaving in the morning to continue their journey westward.


	24. On The Road Again

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 24-On The Road Again**

**Stokes County, North Carolina, July 1818**

_Jul 12, '18 Mond Staid at pa's a cpl days to fix the waggon and buy an other horse and supplyes. Quinn is in better spirits. Travel is not easy with this heat. Leaving t'day, headed to Kentucky._

The next morning, Sam and his father hitched Clyde and Buddy to the wagon after breakfast. They had worked on the wagon while Sam and Quinn visited, and Sam felt it would last them for awhile, at least he hoped so. He hoped it got them to Louisville because there he could buy another one if he needed to.

"I'm glad you and Quinn were able to stop to visit on your way to Indiana," Aaron said to Sam. "Where's your next stop?"

"Quinn wants me to stop in Logan County, Kentucky, to visit the DeWitts. Still not sure about that. Then onto Louisville to stop at her uncle's," Sam replied.

"Why're you not sure about seeing the DeWitts?"

"Well, I'm remarried now...just think it'd be a little out of place, I guess," Sam said.

"I would think her family would like to know how you're faring and I'm sure it would bring happiness to them to know you think of Elizabeth still," his father said.

Sam grunted but didn't reply. He loaded the supplies he had bought the day before in Salem.

Quinn was helping in the house, re-packing their clothes that she had washed the day before. The younger Jane helped her fold their clothing.

"Ya know, I have a feeling about you," she said to Quinn.

"What's that?" Quinn said, smiling.

"I have a feeling that you are with child as we speak," Jane said, resting her hands on her burgeoning belly.

Quinn laughed a little. "No, I doubt that."

"You just have that...look...about you. I think you are. Be sure to write when you find out!"

In her mind, Quinn thought the girl was loony. _A look about me!_ she thought. _Preposterous!_

Sam pulled the wagon to the front of his father's house and loaded up the clothes Quinn had been folding. The elder Jane gave them some food items left over from breakfast, then hugged both of them. Quinn hugged little John and Mary, then Amos, who appeared to be feeling about the same. She hugged the younger Jane who again whispered for Quinn to write when she was with child. Again, Quinn laughed.

Sam shook the William's hand, hugged his father and stepmother and Amos, and then helped Quinn up to the wagon bench.

"Sam," Aaron said to him before he climbed up to the bench. "Quinn's father asked that I remind you to travel in a group. He's worried about treacherous people along the way."

"We'll be fine, pa. Remember, I traveled from Kentucky to Virginia alone and did not have any problems at all. Thank you for letting us stay here and rest up. I'll write from the next town we stop in. I love you, pa," Sam said, hugging his father briefly again, then climbing up on the bench and taking the reins. He snapped them and the horses began to trot along.

_xxxxx_

His father had given him directions of how to pick up the Wilderness Road from Stokes County. The easiest way, he thought, was to retrace their progress so far back northward to the North Carolina/Virginia border and then head west toward Abingdon, which was where the Wilderness Road began in Virginia. Aaron gave Sam the name of a man in Abingdon, an old friend he said, where Sam and Quinn could stop before moving on through the foothills of the Appalachians. Sam and Quinn's wagon lumbered down the road they had arrived on, back toward Virginia.

"Jane said something funny to me today..." Quinn said after driving for awhile in silence.

"Yes?"

"She said I have _a look_ about me, as if I'm with child. _A look!_ Can you imagine?" Quinn laughed it off again.

Sam looked at her intently. "You do seem to be glowing."

"That would be the sweat, dear husband!" she giggled. He smiled at her; her real smile was back and he was so happy to see that.

By the end of that day of traveling they had made it back to the state border and camped there for the night. By lamplight, Quinn again started a letter home and re-read the one she received at the Evans' farm, while Sam read from his mother's Bible, then wrote in his journal, adding to his morning entry:

_Quinn has a glow abt her, a look she said, as if she is with child agin._

_xxxxx_

**Back in Virginia**

Once back into Virginia, they pointed their wagon westward and followed the state border, moving toward Abingdon. They passed very few travelers, probably due to the high heat and humidity, and most people were traveling east, not westward like they were. Their instructions from Aaron were to go to the town of Hillsville in Virginia, then to Galax. From Galax, they'd pick up the road to Abingdon. Two days after leaving Aaron's farm they reached Hillsville, which was basically a trading post. Sam turned the wagon toward Galax.

_Jul 15, '18 Thurs Stopping in Galax, Virg. Quinn wants me to by her a gun._

"You promised me, Sam!" she said at the general store.

He sighed. Technically, he hadn't promised her anything. His logical mind said yes, she needed a gun. His cautious mind, on the other hand, said he could protect both of them.

"Fine," he said, resignedly. He chose a Kentucky rifle and powder and lead for her.

"You'll teach me how to shoot tonight?" she asked, grabbing his arm.

"We'll see..."

A couple hours later, they set up camp outside of Galax and in a large open field, Sam taught Quinn how to shoot the longrifle. He showed her how to load the powder, then the small bullet, cock it, aim, and pull the trigger. Even the lightweight rifle had a kick to it. The first time she pulled the trigger she screamed.

He laughed. "The point of shooting the gun for game, Quinn, is not to scare the game away before you shoot it!"

He helped her a couple more times, standing behind her, his hands on her hips, and let her fire away in the open field. Movement caught his eye, something was on the run, probably due to her shooting and screaming.

He whispered to her..."There Quinn! There!" He pointed in front of them. "A hare...aim at it and squeeze the trigger."

She did so, shakily, trying not to scream. She closed her eyes and pulled back on trigger. The sound of the gun blast filled her ears, but then Sam was shaking her by the shoulders, telling her to drop the gun and come with him. She did so, holding his hand as he traipsed through the wild wheat. He grabbed the rabbit by its feet.

"Your first kill!"

"Oh..." The thought of knowing how to fire a gun and kill something really had not crossed Quinn's mind. The men always hunted. She wanted to know how to shoot for protection. He saw the sadness cross her face and held the rabbit down at his side.

"You don't have to hunt ever again, Quinn," he said, hugging her.

They walked back to their campsite and Sam went about preparing the rabbit for supper. Quinn worked on her letter to send home once they reached Abingdon, writing about Sam teaching her to shoot and her first kill.

That evening, Sam wrote in his journal: _Bought Quinn a rifle...she shot a hare, made her cry._

She had been quiet all through supper and afterward so when they finally lay down to sleep, even though it was a warm night, he pulled her close to him, near the waning campfire.

"Does shooting that rabbit bother you still, Quinn?"

She nodded slightly and he barely heard the _mhmm_.

"Well, I can tell you this, you're a damn good shot...you know how long it took me to teach Joseph how to shoot game?" he asked her, chuckling. She rolled over to face him.

"Really? You taught Joseph how to fire a gun?"

"Yep. He showed me how to bow hunt. I miss him..."

"I miss them all, but I'm happy I'm with you, even if it does mean shooting fluffy bunnies," she said, smiling and kissing him.

He was lying on his back shirtless. She trailed a finger down the middle of his chest, through the hair shining in the firelight, over his muscles, to his bellybutton.

"It's too warm for these, don't you think so?" she said quietly, unfastening his trousers. She pushed up on her knees, leaning over his mid section, and opened his pants widely. She continued following the thin brown line of hair down farther with her finger to where the thicker brown hair was and his manhood lying there, flaccid. She ran her finger down his length to the rosy sac underneath it.

"Uhhh…" he mumbled.

"Should I stop?" she whispered.

"Uh, no…"

She pushed his trousers all the way off, then crawled over his leg and sat on her knees between his legs, staring down at him in the firelight. He crossed his arms behind his head, and she watched the muscles in his torso stretch upward, his belly rising and falling slowly. She leaned down over him and placed her lips on his abdomen. She moved up and kissed his nipples. He moved a hand to her hair and loosened her ponytail, letting her hair fall about her shoulders, tickling his chest. She pulled her shift off so that she was naked above him. He gazed at her in the light of the waning fire, the light flickering across her alabaster skin, her supple breasts. She then moved her way down his body, leaving kisses in her wake, she realized his manhood was fully erect beneath her breasts.

She kissed around his private area, feeling him squirm beneath her. When she touched her tongue to his scrotum, he moaned her name.

"_Quinn, god_..."

She wasn't quite sure what to do with that skin hanging beneath his penis, so she kissed it and then sucked on it a little even though he was hairy down there and sweaty. Whatever she was doing, though, was driving him insane, judging by his fidgety hips and whimpers. She then stuck her tongue out and licked up his length to the head, finding a small pool of liquid oozing out onto his belly. She tasted it...it was warm and thick, no real taste, maybe a little bitter. She began doing to him what she had done the night by the tree, kissing his cock and sliding him into her mouth. This time, she moved slowly up and down his length, moaning a little when he'd respond with his hips.

Every time he felt her voice moan on his cock he felt like he'd probably explode. He wasn't even sure if he was going to be able to say her name when he neared the point of explosion so she'd move away in time. He really couldn't bear to lie still as she sucked on him. Her mouth was hot, wet, vibrating with her moans, and every once in a while she'd move her tongue against him in ways that he never felt when they had relations.

She started sucking him harder and faster and he felt the end drawing near for him. He reached down to her to signal that she needed to move, but she just moved faster on him.

"C'mon Quinn..." he eked out. His eyes rolled back in his head when he felt her mumble _no_ on his cock. He had pushed up on his elbows and was watching her move on him.

His groin was on fire; he felt ready to let go. "I'm...I'm..." he mumbled but too late. He was coming.

She felt him try to move her away from him, but she wanted to end this time differently. Suddenly, her mouth was full the fluid he emitted and she swallowed it back quickly. When it filled her mouth, she realized it was bitter, more so than the little taste she had had earlier. Each time he'd fill her mouth she'd feel him twitch and hear him grunt.

"Uh...oh god...Quinn...oh my..._god_..." He was sputtering and gasping above her, reaching for the base of his penis.

She kept her mouth on him until she could taste nothing else coming out and his body was jolting every time she moved up and down him. She finally slid her body up his, resting her weight on his chest, nibbling at his neck.

He was stroking her hair, then her back, then her ass. "That was..._incredible_...Quinn," he whispered. "Let me do the same for you..."

Her kisses stopped and she leaned up over him. "I'm not sure about that, Sam..."

"Please..." He rolled them over gently so that now she was on her back. He lay over her, kissing her gently as she had done with him.

"Sam, Sam, I just don't know..." she mumbled as he worked his way to the swell of her breasts. His mouth felt so good on her, though. In her mind, she thought of herself as _delicious_ to him, much like he had been to her. She held her breath when her nipple was sucked into his mouth. He leaned up over her, gazing down at her breasts, his hands squeezing her gently.

"Please...I won't hurt you..." he mumbled, leaning back over her, his mouth back on hers. "I want to taste you, Quinn...I want to know every inch of you..."

She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the muscles in his back ripple underneath her fingers. She slid her hands up to his head of shaggy blonde hair, holding him in place over her. She bit her lip and nodded slightly up at him. Her eyes were shining in the firelight and she had a look of trepidation about her, but he kissed her again gently and told her he loved her.

He moved slowly down her body, taking his time to kiss her like she had kissed him. Her belly was flat; he could make out her ribs in the light from the flames. As he slid lower, he opened her knees so he could lie between her legs, his eyes trailing down the smooth lines of her hips. She was used to him laying on top of her but having his face all the way down _there_? She was nervous, embarrassed, not sure what she should do.

As he kissed down her belly to her perfect bellybutton, he could tell she was nervous just by her breathing. Where he left kisses, goosebumps were popping out on her skin. He didn't want to scare her by moving too quickly so he mimicked her actions and used his finger to trail a line from her bellybutton down to the soft mound of hair between her legs. As he got closer to that area, he felt her bring her knees up, almost trying to cover herself, not the same kind of squirming he had displayed. He kissed her at the top of the hair line, then moved down kissing each of her thighs.

She felt him moving all around her down there and remembered how he had kissed her once _there _before and it had surprised her and him and they had not revisited it since then. She tried to keep her legs from moving up between her and him and feeling his lips on her inner thighs pretty much made her forget everything. Much like had happened before, he peeked at her womanhood and could see it glistening in the firelight. He leaned in, unable to stop himself, and placed his mouth squarely on her.

She jumped a little and gasped but there was something about his full wet lips against her there, something intensely pleasurable. Then, she felt his tongue slip in between her folds, and he heard her whimper, a tiny mewling noise. He glanced up at her and saw her hands fisting the quilt they were laying upon. He kissed her again on her sensitive flesh, making her squeal in what sounded like delight. He licked at her, fully engrossed in the taste of her, something uniquely her that he could not get enough of.

When she first felt his mouth on her, she quietly talked herself into going through with it. _His mouth is on you now, you can relax, try to enjoy it, it's just like a ki-_she was thinking, then his tongue poked her. She tried to hold back the sound that came out of her mouth, but it was impossible.

He couldn't believe how swollen she was. Her skin there was full and he licked at her urgently; her hips moving against his mouth in a rhythm. He felt himself grow erect again and wondered if they could have relations. That's when he decided to use his tongue to enter her.

The feeling of pleasure was surging through her body...any thoughts of modesty or embarrassment were long gone, lost to the feel of his lips on her sensitive skin. She felt him use his tongue where he would enter her, then he moved back up to a spot that sent shocks through her body. Like he had done before her, she reached down to his head, wanting him to stay right where he was...

Her hands were entwined in his hair, gripping at his scalp, and he felt the heat radiating from her. Like she had done, he sucked her skin into his mouth, which made her moan out loud.

"Sam..._more_..." she mumbled, not sure if he heard her or not. She felt _that_ feeling building up in herself, wanting to experience it with his mouth on her.

He heard her whisper and stayed right where he was, feeling her tremble and writhe beneath him.

The feeling hit her finally, and her body tensed up, then shook each time he touched her in that certain spot.

"_Oh...oh...oh...oh..._" She didn't even recognize her own voice in the heat of this passion he had created for her.

His face was wet with her juices; he couldn't wait any longer. He leaned up over her and pushed into her quickly, causing her to arch her back into him, suddenly full.

"Samuel..." she mumbled as he rocked over her. He kissed her, and she could taste herself on his mouth.

He slowed himself down, looking from her face to down between them. He then moved one of his arms under one of her legs, then the same on the other side, so that the crook of her knees was resting on his elbows. He pushed up over her again and they both were surprised at how he could penetrate her much more deeply than before. She held onto his upper arms as he picked up his rhythm again, groaning above her.

From the angle he leaned over her and how her legs were propped up, she could feel herself nearing another round of pleasure again. She began moving with his rhythm and felt herself slip over the edge, her breathing out of control, whispering his name over and over.

He was pretty much lost in what was happening between them but then heard her voice change and her hips begin to meet his with each thrust. He watched her as she came again and before he knew it the red hot streaks of pleasure were shooting through his groin and he spilled over inside her. At the end, his forehead was resting against hers, as their thrusting slowed down, his lips touching hers when he could catch his breath long enough to kiss her. He realized he was still holding her legs up, so he slowly and gently helped her lower them back to the quilt. He slipped out of her and lay down next to her, reaching for her hand.

After lying there for a few moments, both silent except for their ragged breathing, Quinn asked in a tiny voice, "Is what we do sinful?"

He looked over at her sharply. He could see the worry on her face in the dying firelight, her hands clutched together up under her chin. He rolled toward her and pushed up on an elbow.

"That just might have been the most beautiful thing I've ever had happen to me. How could that possibly be considered sinful? Do you mean _lust_?" he asked, truly confused, whispering the last word.

She glanced at him, blushing. "The pleasure of it is almost...unbearable, Sam. It's a means of procreation, not pleasure."

He lay back down, floored by what she said.

"So, we're being sinful for loving one another? The connection I feel to you when we come together like that is something I hold very dear to me, not just for the pleasure of it, but because like you said the first time, we become one...As a husband and wife it's the most intimate experience we can share together. I hope you agree. Do you feel as if we've sinned?"

She looked at him again. His eyes were full of passion as he spoke to her, almost like when they were together.

"I feel the same as you do...it's something very intimate to share with one another. I just question the pleasure we receive from doing so. Is it lustful?"

"If God had intended for it to only be about procreation, I don't think He would have made it such a pleasurable experience. Honestly, I think this is something between me, you, and God only," Sam said, snuggling up next to her, pulling the other quilt over their nakedness. In his arms, she felt secure and also found her answer.

"It is a very beautiful thing, Sam. I'm glad this happened tonight...I should get my monthly soon..."

"Let me know and maybe we'll take it easy on the traveling if we're close to a town, m'kay?" he said, drowsily.

"I love you, husband," she whispered to him, drifting off to sleep herself.

_xxxxx_

_Jul 16, '18 On the road agin toward Abbington, stopped near a creek, still hot._

_Jul 17, '18 Stopped in a town called Independents, had an ale in the tavern there._

_Jul 18, '18 Quinn shot a beaver, went 20 mls t'day._

_Jul 19, '18 Dense forest, keeps the heat down but quiet. Quinn sang for me._

_Jul 20, '18 Stopped in a town called Taylor's Valley for the night, thunderstorm._

_Jul 21, '18 Out of the forest, closing in on Abbington, passing more travellors each day._

_Jul 22, '18 Made it to Abbington, staying with a man named Breckenridge for a day before picking up the trail to K'tucky._

Sam knocked on the door of the two-story cabin. The name Breckenridge was carved into a slab of wood and hung next to the door. Quinn waited at the wagon. Sam's father had told him to find Breckenridge and he'd put them up for a day or so, so they could rest before heading farther west.

The door whipped open suddenly. A wrinkled, gray-haired and gray-bearded man stood before Sam, glaring at him, then at the wagon.

"Yeah?" he finally barked at Sam, causing Sam to jump.

"Uh, my pa told me to stop here. My wife and I are headed west on Boone's trail," Sam stammered out.

"Your pa? Who's your pa?" the man barked again.

"Aaron Evans, sir," Sam replied, now scared of the man.

Suddenly, the man's face lit up in a giant smile and he engulfed Sam in an embrace. "Of course, ol' Aaron Evans! Why, you do look a might like the ol' fella! Get your girl and come on in!"

Sam went to the wagon and helped Quinn down.

"Is everything fine?" she asked.

"Yep! He knows my pa, said to come on in," Sam told her, smiling.

Sam entered the cabin first, Quinn following close behind him. The cabin was spacious but hot in the heat of July. A woman who appeared Mr. Breckenridge's age sat at her spinning wheel.

"I'm Alexander Breckenridge but you can call me Alex and this here's my wife, Abigail," he said to Sam and Quinn.

"How do?" the older lady asked.

"Fine, thank you. My pa said we could stay over a night or two before heading on west," Sam said. He introduced himself and Quinn.

"Of course! Any kin of Aaron Evans is welcome under my roof any day! How long have you been traveling for, young man?"

"Nearly a month, sir," Sam said.

"Oh, well you two must be weary! Come Quinn, let's set up your room, then start preparing a little extra for supper," Abigail said to her in a sweet little old lady voice, standing up from her wheel.

"We very much appreciate your hospitality, Missus Breckenridge," Quinn said following her up a ladder to a loft.

"Please, just call me Abby," she said.

Once upstairs, it was stuffy but Abby opened a couple windows. The entire upper floor was sleeping area.

"We had four children; they all slept up here," Abby told Quinn.

"Your cabin is beautiful," Quinn said, looking around.

"Mr. Breckenridge built it with the help of his pa."

Quinn loved it. She decided to tell Sam later that that was the kind of cabin she wanted him to build her once they made it to Indiana.

They prepared a sleeping area for the young couple and then returned downstairs to begin preparing extra for supper. Sam and Alex had unloaded what was needed off their wagon.

"Yeah, me and the missus have been a bit lonely since all the children married up and left; it's just me and her here now, rattling around in the big house," Alex told Sam.

"Thank you for letting us stay...you'll have to tell me how you know my pa," Sam inquired.

"That's a story for over supper!" Alex laughed.

Abby poured the men some lemonade once she and Quinn put supper on and joined them on the porch facing west.

"Quinn'll be happy to make up a batch of biscuits; her biscuits are the best," Sam said jovially. "I've missed them while we've been traveling."

"By all means, Quinn is more than welcome to make up some biscuits for breakfast...we'll have cured ham, peas, and freshly baked bread tonight," Abby said. "I just so happened to bake an apple pie today too!"

"How has your travel been so far?" Alex asked them.

"The heat is pretty high most days. We've encountered some storms and one broken rear axle. If you don't mind, maybe you could help me take a look under the wagon before we set out again, Alex? The thing might be on its last legs, unfortunately," Sam said.

Alex told Sam he'd be happy to help him check the wagon, then the four of them sat there quietly, sipping their lemonade.

"There wouldn't happen to be swimmin' hole nearby?" Sam asked.

"My son has a lake on his property...it's just down the road apiece...today is a good day for swimmin', I reckon," Alex told them.

_xxxxx_

An hour later, Sam and Quinn were splashing around in a cool lake.

"This was the best idea, Sam!" Quinn squealed, splashing him.

"The water feels great..." he said, pulling her up to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He held her against him, his hands under her thighs.

She kissed his wet face. "You taste fishy!"

He laughed. "As do you!"

The sun was hot on their shoulders, so he sunk down into the water, still holding onto her.

"So, from here, we go to Kentucky...are you ready for this?" he asked her, still kissing her cheek, then her ear, then her neck.

"As long as we're together," she mumbled. "_Ohhhh..._" She didn't mean to moan, but his warm lips on her cool skin made her shiver.

He glanced up at her. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay...I like your kisses..." she said quietly.

The kissing progressed to hands roaming over each other's bodies until they were making love quietly in the water.

She watched his face as he pushed into her; he watched her. Nothing was said between them...they used their eyes to communicate during their coupling. There was no sound, only silence, until his breath was coming out in huffs against her mouth when he orgasmed.

When he had slowed down and was resting his head on her shoulder, she said quietly, "I like it when that happens to you..."

He looked up at her. "When _it_ happens?"

She nodded. "The look on your face is unlike any look I ever see...it's a look that only _I_ get to see..."

He smirked a little. "You have a same look, too. That's why it's not sinful."

She kissed him again and they reluctantly swam to the grass lining the lake and got out.

_xxxxx_

"I met your pa in Franklin County, when he was just, oh, about your age, I'd guess," Alex told them over supper. They sat around a table on the front porch, watching the sun set.

"Really? That's where he met my ma..." Sam said.

"I do recall a blonde lassie that he had his eye on...I gave him work for a time back then...one of the hardest-working men I've ever met," Alex said, remembering. "I lived in Stokes County for a time when he moved there and I introduced him to his wife, Jane. Awful sad about your ma."

Sam nodded. Quinn reached over and touched his hand a bit. He had not spoken about her since leaving Franklin County, but she knew that in a way it bothered him, leaving behind those two gravesites, just as it did her.

"How is your pa doing these days?" Alex asked him.

"He and his wife are fine. Their youngest son is ill with consumption and is not expected to survive," Sam said. "How did you know Jane?"

"She's the youngest sister to the missus," Alex said, glancing at Abby.

Sam and Quinn both looked at Abby, now seeing the resemblance.

"Your pa was in a bad way when I met him again in Stokes, missing your ma real bad…" Alex said.

"And Jane helped him heal," Abby finished.

To Sam, it seemed as he got older he learned more and more about his mother and father.

Quinn pulled out her letter to send home to finish updating it and to let her parents know that she and Sam were about to set out on the Wilderness Trail. She re-read their letter for what felt like the hundredth time before Sam said he was ready to retire. Alex promised to help him in the morning to check the wagon. Quinn thanked Alex and Abby again for supper and lodging. In their cozy cabin, she felt completely at home.

Sam took a lit oil lamp and started up the stairs to the loft with Quinn following him. Sam pulled his shirt over his head while Quinn took off her dress, leaving her in her shift. She turned down their bed, and Sam blew out the lamp. Sam slid into the bed first, then Quinn followed suit, fitting against him perfectly. She laid her head on his shoulder, letting him wrap his arm around her.

"Quinn Amelia, are you ready for this adventure?" he asked her quietly.

"I am, Samuel Byrum. We should pray about our travel…" she whispered.

"I agree…" Sam said, pausing to collect his thoughts. "Dear God, please watch over Quinn and myself as we travel across your glorious land. Please give us the strength and wisdom to complete our journey. In your name, we pray…amen."

"Amen…" Quinn whispered. She turned her face up to his and kissed him softly.

Soon, they both were asleep, Sam dreaming about the forests they were about to traverse through, Quinn dreaming about holding a newborn baby in her arms.


	25. Companions

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 25-Companions**

**Traveling westward through Kentucky, July/August 1818**

_July 23, '18 Settin out t'ward K'tucky t'day._

The crow of a rooster woke Sam and Quinn. She pulled herself out of bed and put her dress back on. Sam watched her from the bed, still in awe of her beauty. She braided her hair quickly, put on her boots, and kissed Sam quickly. She climbed down the ladder as he was pulling himself out of bed. She was making biscuits that morning and needed to get started. Abby was already in the kitchen; Alex was sitting at the table there, drinking strong coffee. Quinn could smell the coffee before entering the kitchen.

"G'mornin' young lass!" Alex said, smiling.

"Good morning," Quinn answered. "Thank you again for the accommodations. It was very restful to sleep in an actual bed last evening."

"We've done our share of traveling, haven't we Mother?" Alex said to Abby.

"That we have..."

"Sam will be down right away," Quinn told them, tying an apron on and putting together the ingredients for biscuits that Abby had set out. She had always found making biscuits calming to her. She could collect her thoughts as she mixed the ingredients, then kneaded the dough, rolled the dough, then cut the round shapes. Making biscuits was second nature to her now. That morning, as she worked with the biscuit dough, she recalled her dream from the night before, laughing it off, thinking it was because of Sam's half-sister saying she appeared to be with child again.

Sam made his way to the kitchen, telling the Breckenridge's that he had slept well and thanked them again. He drank a cup of coffee quickly and went to the stables with Alex to inspect the wagon before he and Quinn left. They were planning on leaving right after breakfast.

Once Quinn put the biscuits over the fire to bake, she sat at the kitchen table to add the last sentences to her letter home.

_Sam and I stayed with Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Breckenridge before starting on the Trail westward. They live in Abington, VA, a tidy bustling town. Sam and I are in good health and good spirits. We've asked God to watch over us on our continued travel. I'll write more as soon as I can._

_With all my love,_  
><em>Quinn Amelia Evans<em>

_xxxxx_

_July 25, 1818_

It took five days of excruciatingly boring travel but they finally made it to the Cumberland Gap that Alex had told them about. As they drew nearer to the Cumberland Gap, a natural gap in the Appalachian Mountains to pass through into Kentucky, they noticed the landscape becoming hillier. The heat was still a bother but luckily they were traveling near a river that was rushing with cool water. They took advantage of the river every night they could when it wasn't storming.

Quinn was handling her gun better, shooting some game so they were never hungry. Sam still had to skin whatever she shot, though.

Sam and Quinn noticed more and more travelers heading west with them. Sam heard Thomas Fabray and Aaron Evans telling him to join up with other travelers and thought it might be a good idea. Quinn was quiet most days, either reading while the wagon lumbered on or writing to her family when they stopped. Sam was quiet also, keeping an eye open for the red man or other undesireable men on the trail, that he had been warned about by Alexander Breckenridge. He hoped to join up with another husband and wife or family with women to keep Quinn company.

They reached the Cumberland Gap at sunset and decided to set up camp before going through the mountains. Alex had told them the Gap was about 12 miles long so they should be able to traverse it in a day, barring anything unforeseen. Others were making camp at the foot of the gap also. Sam had come through the gap when he returned from Kentucky but remembered little about it, then just a trail wide enough for one wagon and not hardly any travelers. As darkness fell, Quinn looked up at the giant mountains surrounding them, hearing far-off coyotes howl.

Sitting next to their small fire, eating supper, Sam asked Quinn, "Well, we're about to leave Virginia and go into Kentucky. How do you feel about that?"

"A bit nervous, I'll admit. But excited too. What do you think?" she asked, looking at him in the firelight.

"I feel adventurous!" he exclaimed. Then, more quietly, "and a little scared."

Quinn often wondered how she had been the one lucky enough to meet this kind-hearted man after his first wife died. She had never known a man could be so sensitive and caring. She moved over to the log he was sitting upon and sat down next to him, as close as she could. "An adventure together, Samuel."

Her leaning up against him felt so right, as if that's how it had always been. He squeezed her shoulders and kissed her temple.

They finished their supper and prepared the wagon for the next day's travel. Sam checked on the horses. He could hear others nearby who had made camp there also. He found Quinn inside the wagon, sorting through clothes.

"Would you like to take a walk?" he asked her.

"Sure," she replied. Anything would be more interesting than folding and refolding their few articles of clothing. She climbed out of the back of the wagon; he helped her jump down.

Before leaving their campsite, he said to her quietly, "There are people around; I hear them. Maybe we can say hello and travel a'ways with them?"

She knew her father and even his father had told him to find traveling partners as they entered into more uninhabited wilderness. Mr. Breckenridge had warned Sam also of thieves and miscreants on the trail westward.

They walked up around a bend and came upon two covered wagons and a group of four young people, laughing next to their campfire. Sam and Quinn hid behind a couple trees, watching the foursome.

"I told you, Noah Puckerman, me and Britts' wagon is _off limits_!" one of the girls said loudly. She stood up and waggled a finger in the face of a dark-skinned boy.

Sam and Quinn stopped just out of view of the others and looked at each other. _Britts?_ Quinn mouthed. In her mind, she saw the dreaded redcoats. But, these four people were approximately their age, not speaking with a British accent, seemingly a little drunk.

"Awww, Santana, Noah is just a normal red-blooded American man...what else would you expect?" the other boy said, slurring his speech. He was pale and wore glasses.

"I would expect a little privacy, Arthur Abrams!"

"She likes to use everyone's full names!" Sam whispered to Quinn, making her snort.

"Who's there?" The group of four suddenly stopped laughing and turned in Sam and Quinn's direction. Sam heard the sound of a rifle being loaded.

He took Quinn's hand. "Just me and my wife, folks!" They emerged from behind their trees, walking slowly toward the group. The tall dark boy and the slight pale boy both held rifles; the two girls were now standing together behind them. "We're traveling west, then north, to Indiana. The name's Sam Evans."

The group of four eyed them warily.

"Why you spyin' on us?" the tall dark boy asked, the one who had been called Noah.

"My wife and I were just stretching our legs before settin' out through the gap t'morrow; we're just around the bend," Sam said, looking back over his shoulder.

"Indiana, eh?" the pale boy, Arthur, asked, lowering his rifle. "We're headed that way too."

Sam and Quinn moved in a little closer. "This is my wife, Quinn. We're from Franklin County, Virginia."

"That's a pretty name," the blonde girl said quietly.

"Thank you," Quinn answered. "And you are?"

"Brittany...my parents missed Britain so they named me something close to remind them of the old country," Brittany explained.

"I'm Santana," the dark girl said, stepping forward, protectively. "I'm Britts'..._friend_."

"Both your names are pretty and unique," Quinn said, smiling. "Are you both from Virginia too?"

Santana nodded. "Galax in Grayson County. We met these two," she thumbed toward Noah and Arthur. "...when our wagon broke down."

"So, you and Brittany are traveling together?" Quinn asked them.

They looked at one another, then back to Quinn. "Yes, we are...to explore these new lands. What about you and baby lips?"

Quinn glanced at Sam who was talking with the two men. "Um, _Sam _and I are going to Indiana, to farm there."

"Does he have a land grant from fighting in the war? Artie does too," Brittany said.

"Yes...we have some family in Indiana now too," Quinn told them. "Are the four of you traveling together now?"

Santana crossed her arms in front of her. "Yes," she muttered grudgingly. "After they helped fix our wagon, they insisted they travel with us, _damsels_ they called us!"

"Oh my!" Quinn giggled.

On the other side of the campfire, Sam was talking with Noah and Arthur, who told Sam to just call him 'Artie'.

"So, you're going to Indiana also?" Sam asked them.

"Ayuh...I got a land grant from the gov'ment and Noah is just taggin' along," Artie said. "I was traveling alone and figured I might need him for protection in the wild."

Noah snickered.

"I fought in the war too, the North Carolina militia," Sam said.

"I was in the Virginia militia," Artie said.

"I make love, not war," Noah said, smirking. "I actually just hid out in the mountains to avoid it."

Both Sam and Artie gave him a dirty look.

"Someone had to stay behind to satisfy the womenfolk!"

"Yeah, well, Noah was getting bored of the womenfolk on his side of the mountain and when he saw me traveling alone he made himself welcome to travel along with me," Artie said.

"That I did and look at the two lovely ladies I met and talked into traveling with us," Noah said, glancing over at the three girls. "Your wife sure is pretty."

"Yes, _she_ is..._my wife _is very pretty," Sam said, stressing certain words.

Artie snickered. "Ol' Noah is pretty hard up, Sam...he thought those two would take care of all his needs but neither one of 'em will."

"They insist on sleeping in their wagon together every night," Noah sighed. "They're nice girls, though."

That kind of talk made Sam uncomfortable so he chose to ignore it.

"So where do you two hale from?" Sam asked.

"I lived in Williamsburg..." Artie said.

"I met up with Artie in Bristol..." Noah added.

"So, you've been on the road for quite awhile then Artie," Sam said.

"A couple weeks now...how 'bout you?"

"We went to Stokes County in North Carolina first to visit my father...we've been gone almost a month now," Sam told them. "We're heading through the gap t'morrow...are you four going then too?"

"Ayuh, we plan on it...you and your wife are welcome to go with us...safety in numbers, you know," Artie said.

"So I've been told," Sam replied, smiling. "We'd be much obliged. I think Quinn needed some ladyfolk to talk to anyway."

"Well, then, you've met the right people...those two will keep her so busy you'll forget you're married," Noah laughed.

Sam looked over at Quinn. _I doubt that_, he thought, smiling.

_xxxxx_

"They seem like agreeable traveling partners, don't you think so Sam?" Quinn asked him later that night as they cuddled close together under the stars.

"They'll do...Noah seems like he'll do anything to avoid work and Artie puts up with it. And the two girls? They're traveling together..._alone_?" he asked.

"They said they are from Galax and were just ready for a change of scenery and wanted to explore," Quinn told him.

"What a curious arrangement..." he said, distantly. "But, yes, they'll make fine traveling companions." He rolled toward her. "You realize that by traveling with them we won't be alone that much anymore..."

He started nuzzling her neck, feeling her grin and hearing her soft moan. She rolled toward him, running her hands through his hair.

"You speak the truth, husband," she said quietly, her lips meeting his.

They made love quietly before falling asleep.

_xxxxx_

**July 26, 1818**

At daybreak, the three wagons were lined up on the trail, at the opening of the Cumberland Gap...the natural break in the Appalachian Mountains that would deliver them to Kentucky hopefully in short order. Sam and Quinn led the trio of wagons since Sam had passed through there before, then Santana and Brittany's wagon, then Noah and Artie bringing up the rear.

As their wagon moved slowly down the trail, the mountains hugging them close on both sides, Quinn said, "I hope that Artie and Noah find a couple nice ladies...they deserve good women."

"Well, Artie anyway..." Sam said. He wasn't too thrilled with the way Noah had been eyeing Quinn that morning as they arranged the wagons, even offering to help her up on Sam's wagon. He overheard Quinn say _no, thank you_ politely and Noah had walked off. Noah had then wandered off to "help" Santana and Brittany in any way he could.

Sam sidled up to Quinn who was brushing the horse's manes. "Don't let yourself be caught alone with Noah..."

She looked at him, shocked. "I would never, Samuel..."

"I just don't trust him, Quinn," Sam said.

"I understand," she said, but she really didn't. She just thought Noah was being nice to her.

The morning was hot and humid already. Sam was thankful for the crossing in the mountains even though it seemed that the heat got trapped in there. It felt like they were making no progress whatsoever, just trudging along.

"The mountains are beautiful," Quinn said at one point, fanning herself. Sam looked over at her, a shiny layer of sweat covering her face. "God is wonderful."

Sam felt like cursing the God-awful heat but bit his tongue and agreed with Quinn.

"We'll stop soon to eat and stretch. How do you feel?" he asked her.

"Fine...just hot," she said, smiling.

Sam finally heard the rush of a creek and pulled over at a clearing.

"I don't think we're the first to hear that water," he told Quinn. The trail itself was widened at this point for stopping travelers.

They hopped out of the wagon and met the other four. The men wandered off to pee while the girls got buckets from the wagons. Once they sent the men off to fetch water, they wandered off the trail to also relieve themselves.

"I'd give anything for an outhouse right now," Santana mumbled, squatting against a tree.

Quinn and Brittany mumbled in agreement.

Quinn groaned upon seeing her pantalettes, stained red.

"What's wrong Quinn?" Brittany asked her.

"It's that time...I should've know it'd be happening sooner or later," she sighed. Back at the wagon, she found clean rags in their clothes and shoved them in her pantalettes.

Sam, Artie, and Noah had returned hauling the buckets of water and Quinn told him quietly she'd return shortly...she needed to go find that creek and cool off.

He pointed her in the right direction and she wandered off in the quiet of the forest to the brook. Looking over her shoulder and not seeing anyone following her, she stripped out of her dress and shift and pulled the pantalettes off to clean them in the cold water. She stepped into the cool water, which felt heavenly against her hot skin. She rubbed the small blood stain from the white muslin, noting the rag was not soiled at all. The creek cooled her down nicely. She put the pantalettes back on, wet; she figured they'd keep her cool for awhile that way, then put on her other clothing and returned to the wagons.

"Where'd you wander off to, missy?" Santana asked Quinn upon her return. "Your husband was just singing your praises."

Quinn looked at Sam; he smiled sheepishly at her. "I only speak the truth."

"He told us about your biscuits…hopefully, we'll get to try them. I could show you some of my family's best dishes, too," Santana told her.

"I'd like that," Quinn said, sitting down next to Sam to eat her lunch.

"It feels like rain," Brittany said to the group.

Artie laughed. "There is not a cloud in the sky, woman!"

Brittany shrugged. "I _feel_ it."

"So, what is the town on the other side of this gap? I need to mail a letter," Quinn asked.

"Middleboro," Noah answered. "My pa told me."

"Thank you, Noah. I hope to write to them about traveling through the mountains," Quinn said.

"If this heat would break, it'd be perfect," Sam added. "How did the creek feel?"

"Very nice," she said quietly to him.

After lunch, they urged the horses forward, closer to Kentucky. The trail was curvy, winding to the left and to the right. At one point, they stopped at an overlook, to gaze down at the valley below. They also noticed the clouds building to the south and west, turning gray and black. The wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped.

"You were right, Britts," Santana said at the overlook. Quinn watched the glance they exchanged, one of pure love she was sure.

The men talked it over and decided to keep moving forward until it began to rain. They were able to get about fifteen more minutes of travel in before the deluge of rain. Sam pulled their wagon over, and he and Quinn rushed to the back. He held her through the fierce thunderstorm, worried himself that the wagon might blow over.

When the worst of the storm had passed, Sam went to check on the others. He found Santana and Brittany in Artie's wagon, huddled together and shaking, with Noah and Artie watching over them.

"Well, that was a doozy of a storm, I'd say," Artie said to Sam.

"Quinn and I were worried," Sam replied. "Um, well the trailway is muddied now…should we just camp here for the night?"

They had only traveled halfway through the gap at that point.

"I think that's a splendid idea," Noah said, stretching his legs.

"You are one of the laziest men I've ever known, Noah Puckerman!" Santana squawked.

He sat up quickly. "I most certainly am not!"

With that, Sam returned to his wagon, still hearing those two argue.

"We're staying here for the night…the road is too muddy to go farther today…and we're losing sunlight. I imagine this trail is pretty dark at night," Sam told Quinn.

"Okay…I'll start setting up camp…do you think it's going to rain anymore?"

"Maybe we should ask Brittany?"

They both laughed at that and began arranging their camp items. Afterward, in the waning sunlight, Quinn sat on the wagon bench and added to her letter to send home.

_We are now moving through the Cumberland Gap in the mtns. We didn't make much progress the first day due to a horrific storm that blew up. We are trav'ling now with a group of four others, two men and two ladies. This is a beautiful passageway to the west. I feel blessed to have witnessed it._

_xxxxx_

It rained little through the night, was only steamy. The storm and resultant rain had stirred up the insects so Sam and Quinn decided to sleep in their wagon, even though it trapped the heat inside. Sam closed the front and back flaps.

"We can strip off all our clothes...this heat is miserable," he said, pulling his shirt off.

"Oh, well...I should probably stay in my shift since others are nearby," Quinn said, not removing any clothing.

Sam was already out of his boots and pants, sitting on his knees naked in front of her. "I'll help you..."

He reached over to her to unfasten the few buttons on her dress, but she stopped his hands. "No, really, it's okay..."

"Is everything alright?"

"It's just...that time...so I should stay in my clothes..." she said, quietly, looking down at her hands in her lap, somewhat embarrassed.

He looked at her a moment then realization struck. "Oh, sure. You feel okay?" He reached over to her and brushed her arm with his fingertips.

"I feel fine, just the heat..." She did take her dress off and lay down on their makeshift bed in her shift. He took the thin piece of wood they used to fan each other off and lay down next to her, fanning her face. The slight breeze across her skin caused goosebumps to pop up. "Thank you, Samuel...that helps so much."

He fanned her for awhile longer until she was dozing. He then fell asleep next to her.

_xxxxx_

July 27, 1818

The heat woke them before the sun did the next day. They dressed and began their morning chores so they could start moving again before sunup. Their four traveling companions were awake, as well, and still arguing.

Quinn made her biscuits over the open fire and received compliments all around. Santana said she'd make rice and beans for lunch when they stopped for lunch or supper. When they had all finished breakfast, they grudgingly packed up their belongings, hitched the horses to the wagons, and set off westward again.

Even though it was hot, the scenery as they traveled was marvelous. For Sam, even though he had been through this area before, he was now seeing it with new eyes, especially with Quinn sitting next to him describing different trees, birds, and plants to him. He'd steal glances at her from time to time...her blonde hair longer now and always in a braid or bun, sitting primly next to him, her hands clasped together in her lap, taking in the scenery as it passed by slowly. He had hoped, prayed actually, that she was indeed pregnant again but it wasn't to be right now. He was fine with that since they were traveling, but the glow about her, that she attributed to sweating, was constant. Sometimes he couldn't tear his eyes away from her, captured by her natural beauty.

When the sun was high in the sky, Sam pulled into a shady clearing so they could break for lunch. It felt good to get up and move around and be busy. They were near the creek again so they took turns cooling off in the water. Quinn was not so concerned that her bleeding had stopped; she just praised the Lord and went on about her business.

Santana decided it was too hot to cook rice and beans so she said she'd do that for supper for them all. She and Brittany began singing a beautiful hymn; Quinn recognized the sound of it, she had heard it sung at church, but Santana and Brittany both were singing it in a different language. Quinn became transfixed, listening to their beautiful voices and how they melded together perfectly.

"What is the language in which you sing?" Quinn asked a few minutes after the girls had finished singing. Looking out over yet another valley, the mood was reverent.

"Spanish," Santana replied. "The hymn was Adeste Fidelis."

"It was beautiful," Quinn told them. "I literally feel closer to God now."

_xxxxx_

After traveling for an hour after lunch, they came upon a broken down wagon. The wagon itself was fancy, even painted, with a team of four horses pulling it. A man in equally as fancy clothes was laying on the ground on a quilt next to the busted wheel while a woman who appeared to be his wife, two young girls, and a little boy stood idly by, fanning themselves.

Hearing the approaching wagons, the man scrambled to his feet and shoved his top hat on, rushing up to Sam's wagon.

"My good sir! How fortunate of you to pass this way!" The entire time he was blustering at Sam he was wiping his puffy sweaty face with a handkerchief, then shoved his pudgy, sweaty, dirty hand out to Sam. Sam shook his hand reluctantly.

"Are you having some trouble?" Sam asked him.

"As a matter of fact I am, dear sir. Is there any way you might be of assistance?" The man's breathing was heavy, labored, in the heat.

"Sure…" Sam said.

"The name's Motta, Alfred Motta," the rotund man told Sam, pumping his hand. "My lovely wife Lucretia, my lovely daughter Shelley, my son Shane, and Rachel, our maid." Mr. Motta gestured toward his family, all looking bored or perturbed.

"Pleased to meet you," Sam replied, stepping down from his wagon. "I'm Sam Evans and this here's my wife, Quinn. We're traveling with the two wagons behind us. I'll get the other two men so we can see what needs to be repaired on your rig."

Quinn noticed that the Mottas seemed quite out of place there in the wilderness. They were dressed in clothing she would typically wear to a ball or her wedding; their footwear was inappropriate for the wild; and she picked up the gleam from different pieces of jewelry adorning Mrs. Motta and Shelley. She hopped down from the wagon and went to them, smiling.

"My name is Quinn, my husband is Sam." She gestured toward the two men talking at her wagon. Now up close to these people, she could sense their uneasiness; it was almost palpable. "It's so hot today...would you like some water?"

They all looked from one to the other and finally Mrs. Motta spoke. "Yes, please."

Quinn smiled at them, hoping ease the tension somewhat. "I'll come with you," the girl named Rachel said.

She followed Quinn to the back of Sam's wagon.

"Are we taking a break?" Santana called from her wagon.

"Yes, their wagon has broken down," Quinn answered. To Rachel, she said, "That's Santana and her friend Brittany."

Rachel looked scared to death to Quinn. "Is this your first time traveling?" Quinn asked, finding one of their jugs of water in the back of the wagon.

Rachel nodded. "It was all Mr. Motta's idea," she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't within earshot. "Mrs. Motta did _not _want to do this."

"And you're their _maid_?" Quinn asked.

Rachel nodded again. "Actually, my mother was Mrs. Motta's lady-in-waiting and I was Sugar's lady-in-waiting but when my mother died I just became their maid."

_Lady-in-waiting_ was a term unfamiliar to Quinn. "Who's Sugar?"

"Shelley...they all call her Sugar...she really is a sweet girl," Rachel said, her eyes wide.

Quinn chuckled. "So, why did Mr. Motta decide to migrate?"

"Why, land of course! He's got old money from his daddy and grandaddy and he wants to buy up land out west," Rachel told her.

"Oh...we're traveling to Indiana, for land also," Quinn said.

Santana and Brittany had joined Quinn and Rachel at this point.

"I'm pretty sure we're never going to make it to Kentucky at this rate," Santana sniffed, looking Rachel up and down, then turning her gaze on Sugar.

Mrs. Motta thanked Quinn for the water and tried to coral her young son into sitting down to take a sip. Sugar accepted a cup of water from Quinn without saying a word.

"Are you on your way to a ball?" Brittany asked Sugar.

Sugar just giggled. "No, silly, this is just my everyday couture!"

Brittany looked at Santana, confused.

"What?" Santana asked her bluntly.

"She means her everyday clothes...Sugar, please," Mrs. Motta said to her daughter who was now currently spinning around with Brittany, causing her skirts to billow upward.

"Mother, I'm pretending I'm at a ball as opposed to this God-forsaken land!" Sugar exclaimed, stopping and stomping her foot. Rachel snorted next to Quinn.

Sam and Mr. Motta returned, along with Artie and Noah, and made introductions all around again. Quinn watched Artie and Noah with interest as they nearly salivated over the two young unattached ladies standing before them.

"So, Mr. Motta, do you happen to have a spare wheel?" Sam asked him.

Mr. Motta looked thoroughly bewildered by Sam's question. "Uh, I'm not sure if the man who sold me the rig stowed one away or not."

Sam tried to hide his sigh but smiled. "Let's check underneath then...they store them there sometimes."

The wagon itself was fancier than anything Sam had ever seen. It was more like an extended carriage. There was a bench for the driver up front, then a cabin for passengers, then an enclosed portion containing all their belongings. When Mr. Motta opened the back doors to the hind compartment Sam about fell over. _No wonder he needs four horses!_ Sam thought, staring at trunk after trunk of luggage.

"Have you had any issue with getting up inclines?" Sam asked him.

"Not one problem! The horses are of the finest breed, strong workhorses," Mr. Motta said, puffing out his chest.

Sam squatted down and looked underneath the wagon, seeing a spare wheel. Sam thought it was probably futile to ask but he did anyway. "Do you have any tools up there?"

Mr. Motta just blinked down at him.

Sam scooted out from under the rig and went to the back of his wagon to retrieve his toolbox and wedges to use against the front wheels. He told Noah and Artie to go ahead and unhitch Mr. Motta's team of horses; he was going to have to jack up the rig. That in itself worried him because of the weight of the wagon.

Quinn had been entertained watching the interaction between Noah and Sugar and Artie and Rachel. Since she herself was married, she sat with Mrs. Motta talking about the weather and travel and lady type issues. The other four were free to interact with one another as they were all unattached to a significant other. Santana and Brittany had wandered off to the creek to cool off.

"I like your dress. I'd ask you to dance if we were at a ball," Quinn overheard Noah say to Sugar.

Sugar giggled. "Dance with me now, silly!" She grabbed his hands and made him twirl her around.

"Rachel is a nice name...biblical," Artie said to Rachel. "Do you have a last name?"

Rachel blushed a bit, kicked a pebble with the toe of her satin slipper. "It's not so pretty...Berry."

"Rachel..._Berry_?" Artie asked her.

"Mhmm..."

"I think that is a very nice name, Miss Rachel Berry," he said, getting her to smile warmly at him.

Quinn was amused at how the decorum of society that she had grown accustomed to while living with her parents was no longer in place in the wilderness.

Sam approached the group with Mr. Motta. "We're gonna need to unload Motta's wagon...the jack won't lift her."

Noah and Artie groaned but followed Sam back to begin unloading the multitude of trunks while Mr. Motta sat next to his wife and Quinn.

"I think I'm in love," Artie gushed once they were behind the massive wagon. Sam and Noah stopped and stared at him.

"You just met her!" Noah said finally.

"Well, I fell in love with Quinn when I was 8 years old, so I s'pose tis possible. Good for you, Arthur," Sam said, smiling.

Noah looked at both Sam and Artie as if they had lost their minds. "Well, I've got my sights set on that Sugar Motta. We need to keep traveling with them. Her pa doesn't have any idea what he's up against out here."

Noah was in the back of the wagon moving trunks to the edge for Sam and Artie. "I've never seen so many boxes of stuff in my life," he muttered mostly to himself.

Once the men had most of the trunks unloaded, they began working on the wagon's busted wheel. Mr. Motta and Artie hammered the wedges into the ground in front of the front wheels to stabilize the rig while Sam and Noah worked on jacking it up to exchange wheels.

By the time they were finished, all of the young men were shirtless and the sun was near to setting. They decided to walk to the creek to cool off and the girls followed them. Quinn and Rachel sat on the creek bank with their bare feet in the cool water. The boys, Sugar, Santana, and Brittany were laughing and splashing in the creek. Quinn couldn't pry her eyes off her husband's slim physique, his wet skin glistening in the sun. It was nice to watch him enjoy his spare time when he seemed to always be working. She kept noticing Artie glancing up at them.

"I think Artie is making eyes at you, Rachel," Quinn finally said, noticing Rachel blush.

"Oh, I think not! He's just a friendly young man," Rachel replied.

"You should go splash a little in the water…I think I shall," Quinn said, standing up. She waited for Rachel to stand, although reluctantly, and they stepped into the cool water.

Quinn immediately went to Sam. He was happy to see her in the water with them and picked her up, twirling them around. She laughed and clung to his neck and let him kiss her before he set her back down in the water. The group finally made their way to the bank and lay on their backs, basking in the hot sun to dry off. Sam and Quinn lay quietly next to one another, holding hands, listening to the others talk and laugh quietly.

Once mostly dry, they decided to head back to camp to help with supper.

"Carry me, Noah!" Sugar said, pouting. He lifted her and carried her the rest of the way to camp. Sam and Quinn held hands, as did Artie and Rachel and Santana and Brittany.

At camp, the others were shocked to see Mr. and Mrs. Motta's set-up. They had three tents erected, one large and two small, made of fine painted canvas material. There was a full-size table and five chairs present. Mrs. Motta was tending to supper over an open fire and a cookstove.

Sam and Quinn went to their wagon to pull out their chairs and things for supper.

"I feel like I should dress up for supper," she whispered to Sam who chuckled.

"Maybe I should don my suit?" he said, making her giggle.

They freshened up as much as they could and joined the others at the Mottas' table. Mr. Motta had offered to provide supper for the entire group since the men had fixed his wheel. Santana had prepared her rice and beans dish to share with the others, as well.

"I was pondering this idea and wondered if you all would like to travel along with us? We did fine until the busted wheel, and it opened my eyes to the fact that we might just need companions while on our journey," Mr. Motta said. Sugar immediately gasped in delight and clutched Noah's arm. Rachel shared a small smile with Artie.

"Would you be adverse to traveling with us?" Mr. Motta asked Sam and Quinn and the four they had met.

They looked among themselves, shrugged a little, and told Mr. Motta that they'd welcome their company.

Supper was delicious; it was pheasant, Mrs. Motta said. She said she used different herbs and spices. Quinn thought it was the most tasteful thing she'd ever eaten. Judging by the other's compliments, it was the same for them. Santana's rice and beans were well received also, something new to Sam and Quinn.

After supper, they all sat around the fire, sharing stories of their previous homes. Quinn enjoyed telling the others about her sister and brothers and parents and hearing the other's tales. Noah told of how he didn't want to marry the girl his family had arranged for him to marry, so he ran away. Artie told of how he didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps, as a lawyer, he wanted to work the land and when the land grant proposition arrived he was on the road. Santana and Brittany again said they just wanted to explore the new lands, but Quinn felt there was something more to their story, she just couldn't put her finger on it. Mr. Motta said he had heard great things about being a land prospector, so he closed up his shop in Baltimore and headed west.

The fire was slowly dying so they decided to call it a night and set out early the next morning. Noah and Sugar and Artie and Rachel went for a short walk, as did Santana and Brittany. Quinn could've sworn she saw Santana peck Brittany on the cheek as they wandered off into the shadows. Everyone in the whole camp could hear Sugar giggle. She and Sam retired to their wagon.

Rearranging their few boxes, they laid out their bedding and stripped off a few pieces of clothing to try to keep cool in the warmth of the night.

They lay on their sides, facing each other, kissing quietly in the darkness.

"It appeared that Noah and Artie are getting along nicely with those new girls," Sam said quietly, running his hand up and down along Quinn's side.

"Mhmm…so are Santana and Brittany," she replied, running a finger over his chest.

"What do you mean, Santana and Brittany?"

"I saw Santana kiss Brittany!"

Sam stopped and sat up halfway. "What?"

"I'm pretty sure I saw them kissing!"

He sat there silently for a moment. "How would that even work?"

Quinn giggled. "I have no idea…love is love, though."

Sam lay back down. "True enough…now, let me love you…"

She giggled again and let him push her gently onto her back, silencing her giggles with his kisses.


	26. Welcome To Kentucky

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 26-Welcome To Kentucky**

**Traveling westward through Kentucky, July/August 1818**

In the morning, the group of now eleven set out again, hoping to cross the gap into Kentucky by midday. Sam estimated they were halfway through and maybe had 6 or so miles to go. They let Mr. Motta lead the caravan since he had the largest wagon of the group. Quinn was just anxious to get to Middleboro to mail her letter back home. Their travel seemed to be moving smoothly that morning, the heat wasn't so intense and there was a nice breeze whispering through the trees lining the trail.

Sam heard the yelling first, then Mr. Motta's wagon came to an abrupt halt. Instinctively, he reached for his rifle under the bench.

"Stay here. If need be, get your gun and get in the back," he said to Quinn and hopped down from their wagon, already being met by Noah and Artie. It happened so quickly that Quinn barely had time to process what was going on. She reached for her rifle and readied it to shoot if she needed to, her heart thumping in her chest. She watched Sam, Noah, and Artie creep up to the rear of the Mottas' rig, watched them whisper to one another, then Sam and Artie went up alongside the left and Noah the right.

More yelling, then gunfire. Quinn screamed and held the reins tightly as Clyde and Buddy were suddenly spooked. She was pretty sure she heard Santana and Brittany scream, both of them now sitting alongside her on the bench of her wagon.

"To the back," she mumbled finally, and the three of them scurried to the back.

It was quiet, too quiet, Quinn thought as she waited in the back of the wagon. She heard the sound of footsteps coming near her wagon. She pushed Santana and Brittany behind her and aimed her gun at the back flaps of the wagon.

"I've got a gun and will shoot!" she hollered, scared out of her mind.

"Don't shoot, Quinn, it's me..." Sam said quietly, opening the back flap of the canvas covering their wagon.

"Sam," she whispered. "What is happening?"

She watched him look both ways over each shoulder, then back to her. "Thieves...Noah shot one dead...the other two ran..."

She gasped as did Santana and Brittany.

"There were three? The other two ran?"

Sam nodded at her. "Motta doesn't even have a gun...it's a good thing Noah was there..."

They both heard the snap of a twig alongside the wagon. Sam put his index finger to his lips, shushing them, then closed the flap.

"You won't get outta here alive, young fella, not after killing my little brother..." a deep male voice growled. "Drop yer gun."

Quinn heard the thud of Sam's gun falling to the ground.

"Your brother had his gun trained on the womenfolk...there was no other choice..." Sam said, his voice even.

"And you're a coward, running back here to hide, not even tending to the dead..."

Quinn moved forward as stealthily as possible so as not to move the wagon bed. Through the canvas, she could make out the profile of the man pointing his rifle at Sam. It made her want to vomit to see that. She lifted her rifle to her shoulder.

"Well, young fella, we'll see who tends to your dead body - "

That was all Quinn needed to hear. She pulled the trigger, the shot ripping through the canvas into the man's head.

The gunshot was deafening, but Quinn heard the screams all around her, herself included. She dropped the gun, its weight nearly unbearable. Sam yanked open the back flaps and jumped into the back of the wagon, embracing her. She saw the other man's blood splattered across his clothes though.

She was crying. "Sam, Sam, I didn't know what to do...he threatened your life...I had to...to shoot him..."

He hugged her tightly, noticing Santana and Brittany hugging one another also, all of them frightened beyond belief.

"Tis okay, Quinn Amelia, you did what you had to do..." he whispered into her hair, feeling her tremble in his arms.

They heard running footsteps coming their way, voices calling for Sam. They stopped at the rear of the wagon, upon seeing the dead man. Sam heard Artie telling Noah to get the man's other arm, then he heard the sickening sound of the man being drug away. More footsteps came their way. Mr. Motta poked his head in the back of the wagon, sweating profusely.

"Is everyone alright here?" he asked gruffly.

Sam nodded. "Do you need me?" Sam knew they were going to have to do something with the two dead men; he wasn't sure how to proceed though.

Quinn was still shaking. Reluctantly, he pulled back from her only a little. "Will you be okay? I need to help the other men."

She met his eyes; he was concerned about her, she could tell, and probably would rather not leave her alone, but like he said, he had a duty to take care of.

"I'll stay with Santana and Brittany and Mrs. Motta," she whispered.

He grasped the sides of her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Will you be okay?" he asked her in a firm voice.

She bit her lip and nodded slightly, new tears spilling over onto her cheeks, onto his hands. He kissed her forehead, then turned to look at the other frightened girls.

"Take her to Mrs. Motta and stay there...take her gun too," he told them and climbed out of the wagon. The three girls followed him and scurried to the lead wagon, climbing into the passenger box and huddled together with Mrs. Motta, Sugar, Rachel, and Shane.

"What happened, Mrs. Motta?" Brittany asked, biting the end of her finger nervously.

"Three men on horseback stopped Mr. Motta's progress...they wore handkerchiefs across their faces...they demanded our wagon, our team, our possessions..." her breath hitched. "..._our daughters_." Quinn, Santana, and Brittany all gasped.

She went on. "Mr. Motta was so brave! He yelled at the miscreants and told them to let us pass! That was when one man raised his rifle at dear father...oh!" Her hand went to her forehead as if she were swooning.

"Mother!" Sugar said, holding onto her. "That's when Noah shot the bastard!"

All the others in the passenger compartment gasped aloud.

"The gunfire spooked the horses that the other two men rode...the dead man fell to the ground...his horse trampled him...Sam said he was going to check on you three while Noah and Artie removed the dead man from the path..." Rachel told them.

They all sat there quietly then, in a state of shock, trying to process what had just happened. All Quinn could think, over and over, was _I just killed a man_. It was almost like a mantra, and she caught herself rocking to and fro on the velvet cushion on which she sat.

Finally, Mr. Motta and the three other men returned. They had decided Mr. Motta would drive his wagon, Sam his wagon, Noah would drive Santana and Brittany's wagon, and Artie his wagon, that way all the women and one child would be together in the enclosed passenger compartment. The thought of being distanced from Sam made Quinn hyperventilate. Mr. Motta called for Sam who came up to the wagon and pulled Quinn from the closed-in box.

"I'll take her with me," he told Motta. He walked her back to their wagon and helped her up, placing her gun back under the bench. She squeezed in close to him, hooking her arm through his.

She couldn't stop the tears; she knew she needed to. In a physical sense, they were all moving on from what just happened; she needed to move on mentally and emotionally. Yet, the tears wouldn't stop.

Eventually, after another hour of silent travel, the tears turned into hiccups, then stopped.

"I'll be going straight to hell," she mumbled finally.

"Quinn, I would've done the exact same thing if I had been in your position. You saved my life! That animal was going to shoot me!" Sam said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I'm just ready to get out of these mountains..."

"As am I..." he replied.

They traveled straight through, no stops, until the town of Middleboro was looming ahead.

_xxxxx_

The town of Middleboro was busy with a lot of westward travelers stopping there after passing through the mountains. In the town proper, the group found the livery to stable their horses and wagons, then set off to find a boarding house or hotel of sorts. Sam noticed that Quinn was not letting go of him; she was touching him in some way at all times since the incident on the trail.

They found a hotel, and Sam rented himself and Quinn a private room. Sam wasn't too concerned about the other's lodging; he was worried about Quinn.

Noah and Artie decided to camp out on the outskirts of the town, as did Santana and Brittany. The Mottas reserved a couple rooms in the same hotel as Sam and Quinn and insisted that Sam and Quinn have supper with them. Sam reluctantly agreed; he just wanted to get Quinn alone to talk to her.

The group of eleven met in the dining room of the hotel and shared a solemn supper. Mr. Motta suggested in his prayer before they ate that God find forgiveness for those who were seeking it. He had noticed that Noah, as well as Quinn, had been affected deeply by the actions of earlier that day. He said that those who acted heroically had saved the lives of others and needed God's forgiveness now more than ever. The group mumbled a quiet _amen_ and then ate in silence.

After supper, Sam took Quinn to their room, had her rest on the bed while he drew a bath for her. By the time he undressed her and helped her into the tub the water had cooled down somewhat. He took off his clothes and slipped into the tub with her. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to get as close to her as possible.

"Quinn," he whispered against the back of her neck. "God doesn't hate you."

He felt her inhale deeply and hold her breath. He tightened his hold on her.

"I thank God that you're my wife and that you handle a gun as well as you do," he said, trying to chuckle a bit.

"I just...I just...that man was someone's _son_, Samuel," she said finally, letting a sob escape.

He let her cry, then said, "He was trying to hurt us, Quinn...he threatened the womenfolk..."

"I know, Sam, I know...I'm trying to get past it..." she whimpered in his arms.

"I'm right here with you Quinn...I won't leave you alone again..." he said, kissing the skin where her neck met her shoulder.

"Sam, part of it is...he could've taken you from me..." Another sob slipped out. "Just the thought of that makes me sick, Sam."

All he knew to do was to hold her. The thought that those men could've hurt her...or worse...made him sick too.

After some time of sitting in the cool water, Quinn shook when a cool breeze drifted in through their open window. Sam got out first and dried off, then helped her out. She slipped on a clean shift and crawled back into the bed, curling into his body.

_xxxxx_

She awoke with a start. The room was dark; the town quiet, save for some drunk men at the nearby tavern. She reached for Sam, but his familiar form was not there. She rolled over and saw him in the moonlight, sitting next to the open window.

"Sam?" she asked quietly. He looked toward her, then got up and came back to bed.

"I was just thinking," he said before she could ask. "About you...about our life before this...about whether I'm making a mistake..."

"A mistake?" she asked, still groggy from her deep sleep. She had rolled to face him, caressing his bare chest down to the waist of his trousers and back up again. She ran her fingers through the hair on his chest; there seemed to be more of it there now, just since leaving her father's home a month ago.

She looked up at him, tearing her eyes away from his mid section. "No, Sam, this is not a mistake. We're doing this for our future. You know as well as I do that we had no future in Virginia."

"I've put you in harm's way, Quinn...I don't think I can ever forgive myself for putting you in that position today," he said quietly.

"We were warned of the risks beforehand, Samuel. I don't think I could turn around and go back through the gap now. We need to press forward," she told him. Slowly, she moved up on top of him, laying her body against his. She kissed his jaw, his whiskers tickling her lips. She giggled quietly. He grabbed the back of her head, pulling her into an urgent kiss suddenly. His other hand was at her hip, fisting her shift and pulling it upward. She could feel his length harden between them. She let her legs drop to his sides, opening herself above him.

She felt him reach between them and unfasten his trousers quickly. He took his cock in his hand and slid himself against her opening, finding her wet and warm. He pushed up into her quickly, wanting her all around him. She slid down his length, and he held her hips in place. He leaned up to kiss her; their tongues touching.

"I feel so close to you right now..." he whispered, bucking up to her.

He leaned back to the bed slowly and she stayed close to him, letting him move her hips to his rhythm. The bed began bouncing against the wall, but Sam couldn't slow himself down. It had never been so intense between them. He began grunting with his thrusts and hearing the bed slam against the wall and feeling Quinn's breath on his ear he couldn't hold off any longer. He climaxed, groaning, when she nibbled on his ear.

His reaction when they made love always did something to her. She whispered to him _keep going_ and he did, feeling her breath quicken against his skin, her whimpers vibrating against his lips.

She could feel his fluid running back out of her, down the inside of her thighs. He was still hard, even though he had climaxed. Her groin was hot, sensitive. He was hitting every spot that needed to be touched. Her eyes fluttered closed and she uttered his name as her body tensed up, then trembled with each of his thrusts. She was gasping over him, whispering his name.

"I feel very close to you..." she responded finally. Sometimes she likened their lovemaking to a storm, it just blew up out of nowhere, fast, passionate, full of emotion. This was one of those times.

He had softened and fallen out of her, but they still rocked slowly together, kissing each other softly.

"Tomorrow, we begin anew," he said quietly.

"We shall," she whispered back.

_xxxxx_

The first thing Sam did the next morning, after disentangling himself from a very peaceful sleeping Quinn, was walk down the street to the livery. There, he spoke with the men about repairing the back flap of the canvas of their wagon. The man looked at Sam oddly when they inspected it and noticed the tear in the fabric was mysteriously a small round hole with gunpowder surrounding it. He eyed Sam but didn't ask any questions. Sam held his gaze with the man, almost daring him to question him, but the man went about his business.

Sam returned to the hotel room to find Quinn sitting at the desk there, finishing her letter home.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Good morning, husband."

"Good morning, wife," he replied, sitting at the window.

"I missed your company when I awoke," she said.

"I went to the livery to check the horses," he told her. "May I add a few lines to your letter?"

"Of course...I'm nearly finished..."

When she handed it over to him, he glanced through it quickly, looking at her neat manuscript. She had detailed the gap and their new traveling companions but there were no details of the events of the day before. At the end of her missive, he added a few lines.

_Dear Grandmother Feazel, All is well on the road. I'm taking good care of my wife. I think of you often. Could you please put some pretty flowers on the graves?_

_Dear Mister and Missus Fabray, Quinn is fine. The travel is tiring, but we've met some folks to travel with. She is in good spirits._

_Dear Joseph, Thank you for watching over my grandmother. Please tell my cousins I said hello, esp Miss Nancy Ann._

He signed his name alongside Quinn's and handed her the letter back. She folded the few pieces of paper and sealed it with a bit of wax. She addressed it to her parents, then she and Sam collected their few belongings in the room and prepared to find the others to begin their travel for the day. At the hotel desk, Quinn handed her letter to the clerk who accepted it with a smile. They found the others outside lounging in the shade, eating some breakfast, minus Noah, Artie, Sugar, and Rachel. Mrs. Motta offered Sam and Quinn each a bowl of oats and a glass of orange juice.

"Fresh squeezed," she said, smiling.

"Sam, we've decided that the best thing to do regarding yesterday's tragic events is to not speak of them again," Mr. Motta said once Sam and Quinn had settled down with the group.

Sam nodded. "We agree."

"Where are the others?" Quinn asked, noting the absence of four of them.

"They said they wanted to stretch their legs and take a walk," Mr. Motta said. Sam and Quinn looked at one another, then at Santana and Brittany who shrugged.

Approximately a half-hour later, the four returned...newly married. Sugar was now Mrs. Noah Puckerman and Rachel was the new Mrs. Arthur Abrams. Upon hearing this news, Mrs. Motta promptly fainted, luckily next to Santana who caught her, albeit grudgingly.

_xxxxx_

Quinn and Brittany helped Santana sit Mrs. Motta in the nearest chair, fanning her to get her to wake up. Mr. Motta was all atwitter, as well, about these new developments.

"Young ladies!" he blustered. "You did not ask my permission! And you, young sirs," he continued, pointing a finger at Noah and Artie. "You most certainly did not ask me for their hands in matrimony!"

"With all due respect, Mr. Motta, Rachel is not your daughter," Artie said, smugly.

"With all due respect to you, _sir_, Rachel is under my care since the passing of her mother!" Mr. Motta retorted.

There was silence then as this sunk in to the others.

"She's under my care now," Artie said quietly, smiling at Rachel. She grasped his hand tightly, as did Noah and Sugar.

"My apologies, sir, for not asking you first, but we knew what your response would be," Noah said then. "I will take good care of your daughter, you have my word."

"Papa, I _love _Noah! Please be happy for us!" Sugar said, dropping Noah's hand and clinging to her father.

Sam sat next to the Mottas' young son watching the scene unfold, taking bite after bite of oatmeal but not tasting it. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany had their hands full tending to Mrs. Motta who was now conscious but complaining.

"How dare you, Shelley Elizabeth Motta!" she cried to her daughter. "How dare you marry some backwoods country boy!"

More silence.

"Mother, I beg you not to forget that Noah saved your life," Sugar responded.

Quinn kept fanning Mrs. Motta as she sat there, slumped over, defeated.

"I'm just going to have Noah move my belongings to his wagon, papa," Sugar said finally.

Sam went with Noah and Artie to the livery to get the wagons. He watched them sort through the many trunks in the Mottas' wagon and move certain ones to their own wagons. Quinn walked there with Santana and Brittany while Sugar and Rachel stayed behind at the makeshift camp to talk to the Mottas.

"Well, that was quite an interesting morning," Santana said bluntly. "You nearly killed Mrs. Motta with that news!"

"They were gonna find out sooner or later...might as well be now," Noah replied. Sneering, he asked, "Why? Are you jealous?"

Santana snorted. "Not in the least, Puckerman!"

Once alone with Sam in their wagon, Quinn said to him, "I didn't expect all that this morning."

"Me either...love is love, though, right?" he asked her, smiling.

"Yep..."

Their caravan headed out of Middleboro, the Mottas leading the way, now shy two girls, then Sam and Quinn, then Santanta and Brittany, Artie and Rachel, and Noah and Sugar bringing up the rear.

_xxxxx_

**August 1, 1818, traveling northwest through Kentucky**

_Aug 1, '18 We're in Kentuck now, passing through small towns, on our way to Louisvull._

The men of the group had decided upon leaving Middleboro that they would try to travel 20 miles per day. The landscape was much like Virginia, now not as hilly as they moved away from the mountains. The heat was more bearable, the nights a bit cooler. Sam had finally talked Quinn into not veering off their course to visit his first wife's family. His reasoning to Quinn was that it was too far away; in his heart, he knew he needed to move on with his life with Quinn but would never forget his first wife.

Quinn agreed to his plan without too much fight, which confused Sam. It had been her idea in the first place and she had been fairly adamant about visiting these people. Instead, she simply nodded, smiled a bit, and said _okay_.

She wanted to argue him and make him see how important it was to see these people but frankly she had not felt right since leaving Middleboro. She didn't know if it was the heat of midday, the sway of the wagon, the smell of the horses, but she felt dizzy and nauseous and told Sam she was going to lay down in the wagon. He looked at her funny as she climbed over the bench to the back. It was somewhat better in the darkness of the covered wagon. She had noticed that the canvas flap had been repaired, which was good for her mentally. She lay down and closed her eyes, draping an arm over her face.

If only this blasted wagon would stop shaking from side to side

, she thought in quite a foul humor. Her stomach rolled and she pulled herself up to behind Sam at the bench.

"Can we please stop?" she asked as quickly as she could but the contents of her stomach came up without anymore warning.

Sam pulled on the reins, stopping the wagon abruptly. She kept trying to stop it, but it kept coming up...everything they had had for lunch and all the water she had been drinking. He helped her out over the bench and out of the wagon and to the shade of an oak tree. She lay down in the cool grass, feeling the breeze against her hot skin. She took a few deep breaths and tried to regain her composure before the others realized something was wrong.

Sam made sure Quinn was okay underneath the tree and returned to the wagon to clean up the vomit. It didn't bother him; he gutted game all the time, spilling the innards onto the ground or into a bucket. And Quinn had barely eaten anything when they stopped for lunch a few hours prior. The others crowded around Quinn, then Mr. Motta brought Sam a jug of water, saying they had plenty. Thankfully, most of what Quinn had thrown up wound up underneath the wagon bench so Sam sloshed the water there, then brushed it all out of the wagon.

"Are you okay, dear Quinn?" Mrs. Motta asked her, laying a cool cloth across her forehead. She had taken to the quiet blonde-haired girl, especially since her own daughter had betrayed her, in her eyes.

"I think I'm okay, Mrs. Motta, thank you," Quinn replied, sitting up a little. "I think it's just the heat."

Brittany brought her some water, and Quinn sipped it slowly. Sam returned to her side, asking how she felt.

"I think I'm better now, Sam…we should probably continue on," Quinn said, smiling at him weakly.

He looked at her, pausing a moment, then agreed with her. Everyone returned to their wagons, and they moved forward.

A few minutes after riding on the wobbly wagon, Quinn vomited up the water. That time, she just leaned over the side of the wagon instead of making Sam stop. She then climbed in the back to lie down again.

They made it to the town of Barbourville and stopped for the night.

Quinn was so glad to stop in Barbourville. There, she could be out in the fresh air without the constant juggling of the wagon. She figured she had probably eaten something that didn't agree with her and the tossing and turning of the wagon ride was making her stomach worse.

Unfortunately, stopping and sitting still in the fresh air didn't help Quinn at all. The smell of cooking meat - she wasn't sure what had been shot - and the campfire and the smell of the horses overpowered her again. Sam found her dry heaving at a nearby tree, hanging onto the tree so she wouldn't collapse. He walked her back to the camp and had her lie down. He placed a cool rag over her forehead since she had felt hot to him as he nearly carried her. He hoped it was just the heat of August and not a fever, but the worry was in his mind then.

He sat next to her after supper, rubbing her temples.

"Should I send a quick letter home, Quinn?" he asked her quietly.

She was listening to Mr. Motta play some instrument and could hear the others mumbling the song quietly. Sam's hands on her head alleviated a lot of the stress she had been dealing with. Her stomach, though, was still in knots.

"That'd be nice, Sam. I'm not sure I feel up to writing one, though," she told him.

"I'll write it. You just tell me what to say."

He went to their wagon to fetch paper and a pencil and a lamp and returned to Quinn's side.

He began the letter with _Dear Mister and Missus Fabray_.

"Tell them we are now in Kentucky and it's as beautiful as Virginia," she said quietly as he scribbled. "And hot too!"

He chuckled along with her. He wrote: _We are now in K'tucky, makin good progriss. The land here is beyootifull, like Virginny. We still have the same heat_.

"Oh! Don't forget to mention the four who got married!"

_Four of our travelin companniens were united in mariage. Mister Noah Puckerman maried Miss Suggar Motta and Mister Arther Abrams married Miss Rachell Barry. Very shocking to say the least._

"Please ask after my dear sister Kate and little Jimmy and Martha and Peyton," Quinn said, her eyes closed. "And my brothers."

_Hope this finds all doing well. Quinn asked after little Jimmy and Kate and Martha and all her brothers. She misses all dearly. She seems to have a bit of an illniss but is doing better._

He didn't tell her about the last sentence he added so as not to worry her anymore. He signed it _With all our love, Samuel and Quinn Evans_.

"We'll drop it with the postmaster in the morn. Do you feel any better, dear Quinn?" he asked her, stroking her arm with his finger.

She didn't want to lie to him, yet she didn't want to worry him either. "I shall be fine, Samuel. Thank you." She pushed herself up to sitting and leaned against the tree.

"Would you rather sleep outside tonight? Under the stars? Or in a tent?" he asked.

"Under the stars would be nice," she said, smiling at him.

He smiled back at her, kissed her quickly, and ran to the wagon to put up the letter and retrieve their bedding. He returned and laid out the bedding for them and they both lay down and stared up at the night sky, brilliant with stars.

"I want you to try to get some rest, Quinn Amelia," Sam said to her. Whenever he used her full name, she knew he was serious. He pressed a cool wet cloth to her forehead.

"It's nice out tonight...I feel a bit better," she said. She felt better lying supine; sitting upright was a different story.

The other ladies had been to check on her that evening before they turned out their lamp, asking if she needed tea or water or any various remedies they had. She politely declined them all. Lying there quietly with Sam, she asked him how much longer until they got to Louisville.

"Not sure...I can ask tomorrow in town..." he answered her. "Quinn, do you need to see a doctor?"

He was afraid to ask her that but since feeling her hot skin earlier he had been worried about her coming down with a fever, like his first wife.

"No, of course not, Sam! I'll be fine in a day or two," she told him, linking her arm with his.

Before long, he realized her breathing had evened out…she was asleep. He turned on his side and kept his eyes on her until he drifted off.

_xxxxx_

He woke up later, realizing she was not next to him. The sky was just beginning to lighten. He sat up and let his eyes adjust to the darkness, looking and listening for her. He heard her light footfalls approaching. As she neared him, she looked shocked to see him sitting up.

"You worried me," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry, Sam…I just…didn't feel very well…" she said, sighing as she sat down next to him, then lay back easily.

He felt her forehead; she didn't feel feverish.

"Try to get a little more rest before we start the day," he said to her, stroking her hair until she fell back asleep.

It wasn't long before the heat woke them up and it was time to start traveling again. In the town of Barbourville, Sam dropped off their letter at the general store and found out how far it was to Louisville (about 9 days' travel) and to the next town (London) if they pushed it they might make it there that night.

He relayed this information to the group and to Quinn. She nodded and took her place on the wagon bench next to him, and they set out again.

Sam asked the Mottas if he and Quinn could lead their caravan since Quinn was not feeling well and he wanted to get to Louisville as quickly as possible. He had noticed the greenish tinge to her skin in the morning light even though she smiled at him weakly, telling him she felt fine. Mr. Motta said that that was fine, and Sam pulled their wagon to the lead. Within an hour, Quinn had vomited over the side of the wagon. She felt it would be best if she lay back down while he drove. Sam urged the horses faster over the rough road, becoming more nervous every mile.

Quinn lay in the back of the wagon, a wet cloth to her head, thinking of her father's farm. Thinking of home always made her feel better. She wondered how Kate and Martha were doing with their babies, wondered if her brothers were courting anyone, thought of her parents fondly. She recalled her and Sam's early days of courting and would sometimes even remember playing as a little girl with Peyton and Sam in the forest. She giggled to herself when she remembered telling Peyton she wanted to find a fairy. She thought of the day of the revival when Sam had run into her at the door of the meetinghouse and how flustered he had been, his hat sitting at a funny angle on his head, rushing in to retrieve his mother's Bible. She decided that their fateful meeting that day had to have been an actual act of God, bringing them together again.

Even thinking of all the good she had in her life didn't stop the nausea from overwhelming her. She knew Sam was pushing the horses faster, which caused more motion of the wagon. She tried not to but wound up dry heaving in a bucket in the back of the wagon. He kept asking her if she felt feverish but she really didn't. She had her suspicions of what was causing the sickness but didn't want to say anything to Sam, to worry him further.

_xxxxx_

Sam pulled into the small town of London at nightfall, stopping first at the tavern to ask after a doctor in the area. He knew Quinn was still dry heaving, and she wasn't eating or drinking anything at all now. They told him there were 'docs' who made their way around occasionally and the 'medicine man' of the local Indian tribe but his best chance of finding a decent physician was to get to Louisville. He sighed and returned to the wagon to check on Quinn. He found her sitting next to the campfire, sipping on something, then nibbling on hardtack.

"Mrs. Motta told me to try this for my stomach ailment...it is a tea and is very good," she told Sam. She looked not as pale in the firelight so he smiled and sought out Mr. Motta.

He found him relieving himself in a grove of nearby trees. Sam took the time to do the same and also ask the older man his opinion.

"What should I do? I need to get her to Louisville but it'll take another week at least. I'm worried about her condition," Sam told Mr. Motta. His suspicion, and he hoped like hell he was wrong, was that Quinn had some sort of fever like his first wife.

"If it were me, son," Mr. Motta said, doing an exaggerated shaking of his penis then readjusting his genitals back into his trousers and fastening them. "I'd drive through the night to get to Louisville if the missus or one of the young lassies were ailing."

Sam finished what he was doing, then spoke. "How much time would that shave, do you think? Do you think I could get here there in four days?" He would forgo his rest to get Quinn to see a physician as quickly as possible.

"Possibly. You could inquire about a midwife. Do you think it's _that_ kind of problem?"

Sam pondered that. Quinn had not complained of female issues, just a stomach ailment. "I don't think so..."

He thanked Mr. Motta for his advice and returned to Quinn's side. "Do you feel up for a walk?" he asked her.

"A short one, I think," she replied, taking his hand. The tea and crackers had helped her immensely.

Sam wrapped his arm around Quinn's shoulders, pulling her in close to him as they walked slowly.

"I'm glad you're feeling a bit better...I'm still worried about you though," he said to her.

"Samuel, I'll be fine...I feel better right now...a lot better," she said, tugging his arm.

He stopped walking, turning to face her. "Tonight, we're moving onward. I'm going to drive through the night until we reach Louisville."

She began to protest, as he expected she would. "No. My word is final. I can make it there in maybe four days so I can get you to a doctor, Quinn Amelia."

She was shocked that he had put his foot down about this matter, without even listening to her argument. "What about your rest, Sam?"

"I'll rest when I need to, when I rest and feed the horses. Your health is my main concern right now. I'm going to refill our water with the fresh creek water and prepare a short note for Mr. Motta to send to your uncle to let him know we'll be there soon. This is final. This is what we're doing."

"What about the others?" she asked, grasping at straws now.

"They will catch up with us in Louisville if they continue on to Indiana. Santana and Brittany might go on westward and possibly the Mottas also."

She sighed. Unfortunately, the nausea was welling up again. She knew Sam was right about getting to Louisville.

"Okay, Samuel. I'm ready whenever you are," she said quietly, leaning up to kiss him softly. He held her for a moment in the moonlight, then they walked back to camp to tell the others of their plans.


	27. Charlie

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 27-Charlie**

**Traveling westward through Kentucky, August 1818**

They said their goodbyes to the others, wishing them well in their travels, hoping to catch up with some of them someday. Sam scribbled a quick note to Quinn's uncle in Louisville and turned it over to Mr. Motta to be mailed in the morning. While Sam was filling their water jugs, Mrs. Motta hugged Quinn and told her she'd be praying for her good health. She then pressed a tin pail into Quinn's hands. It was covered with a red-and-white checkered cloth and later Quinn would find more hardtack and more of the special tea. She watched Sam check his gun and her gun and place them back under the wagon's bench. She knew he feared wild animals at night and wanted to be prepared.

The younger set really didn't understand Sam's insistence that he get Quinn to a doctor. They, of course, did not know his history of losing his young wife. He told Artie and Noah where to find them in Louisville. He said that he and Quinn would wait there as long as possible, depending on what the doctor said, before they headed northward into Indiana.

Sam helped Quinn up on the wagon bench; she wanted to ride with him before crawling in the back to sleep. He pulled himself up and took the reins, the others gathered around their wagon.

"Godspeed, young sir!" Mr. Motta said with a flare. The others mumbled the same. Mr. Motta reached up to shake Sam's hand, and Sam felt him palm something during the shake. He looked at Mr. Motta who winked back at him. Sam nodded, then urged the horses forward into the night. Later, he would realize that Mr. Motta had slipped him a twenty-dollar bill, issued from the state of Maryland. Sam was amused by it. He tucked it in his journal but never spent it.

_xxxxx_

The Kentucky night air was warm. Quinn didn't feel as sick, and she sat next to Sam watching the fireflies dance amongst the trees.

"The man told me to take the left fork to get to Louisville," Sam said in the quiet darkness. "He said it was about 10 miles outside London."

Quinn leaned against Sam's side, the sway of the wagon finally putting her to sleep. He was tired too, kept yawning, but pressed on. He figured he'd stop at the fork to rest a bit.

_xxxxx_

**August 3, 1818 Traveling to Louisville, Kentucky**

As the sun was rising, he saw the fork in the road and a worn sign saying _Hazel Patch_. He pulled their wagon over in a grove of shade trees. Quinn stirred and woke up, promptly jumping off the wagon to throw up. She returned to Sam a few minutes later, telling him she felt better, she just needed to get that out of her system.

"You rest, Sam...I'll take our clothes to the creek for washing..." she said. She gathered their clothing in a basket while he tended to the horses and then walked the short distance to the creek.

There, she shucked off her boots and stepped into the cool water. Alone with her thoughts and actually feeling a bit better...it seemed to come and go in waves, she had noticed...she allowed herself to consider her suspicions of the illness. She realized her monthly was late now. The possibility that she could be with child again scared her for several reasons. One being they were traveling, basically alone again, through the wilderness, and secondly, her first pregnancy had ended in demise. She was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to emotionally handle another scenario like that. She also realized that Sam thought she was ill with fever, like his first wife, but if he had any suspicion she was pregnant again, he'd be just as worried.

Washing their clothing in the creek, trying to rub out stains with rocks and a bit of lye soap, Quinn found herself weeping. She wanted to tell Sam her suspicions, she wanted to feel better, she was scared...she missed her family. If only she had her sister there to comfort her or her mother...

She took their wet clothes and hung them over low branches to dry, then lay in the grass in the shade next to the creek, feeling another wave of nausea sweep over her. There was a soft breeze and soon she drifted off. Her dreams were scattered...losing their infant son, shooting the scoundrel, happy times on her father's farm, painting scenes from her bedroom window...

Sam watched her from where he parked the wagon; she was knee-deep in the creek washing their few soiled pieces of clothing. He watched her hang them on branches, then lay down on the grass. He walked down to where she lay, finding her sleeping.

She looked so pretty to him, lying there amongst tiny blue flowers, finally able to rest peacefully. He watched her face as she dreamed, a tiny smile played at her lips, then a frown. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, and she stirred a bit. He saw the faint tear tracks and knew she had been crying...he wondered why. He lie down next to her and fell asleep himself.

Quinn woke up well rested, surprised that she had fallen asleep and surprised to find Sam next to her, snoring quietly. She brushed his long hair from his face, then got up to retrieve their now-dry clothes from the branch where she had hung them. She was humming the song she had heard Mr. Motta playing on his funny instrument a couple nights ago and almost felt normal...until the nausea struck her again.

Her retching woke Sam up. He realized he had fallen asleep on the grass next to her, now she was off vomiting. He ran his hands through his hair and stood up to find her.

He found her leaning against a tree, trying to catch her breath. She was pale and sweaty. She smiled weakly when she saw him.

"It's this heat..." she started.

He instinctively felt the skin on her face. "You feel odd...we need to get back on the road." He took her hand and began to lead her back to the wagon.

"Sam, I'm fine...really..." she said, tugging on him to stop. He turned around. "I need to get our clothes..."

"I need to get you to a real doctor!" he said, nearly yelling, surprising them both. He followed her to where their clothing hung.

"I'm serious, Quinn...I'm so worried about you..." he said more quietly, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him.

"Sam, it's just...I think it's just...I might be with child again..." she finally sputtered out.

He looked dumbfounded. "What? No...how is that possible?"

"Well, Sam -"

"I know that! But, I thought, _I thought you had your monthly..._" He lowered his voice to a whisper afraid the birds and bees might overhear their delicate conversation.

"I thought so too but I guess I didn't...I do agree with you, though, I probably should see a doctor," she conceded, smiling widely.

She saw a bit of the worry leave his eyes momentarily and a smile play at his lips but then he questioned her. "We have a lot of travel yet to go. How will this affect you?"

"I'm not sure..." They both glanced down at her flat abdomen.

He hugged her suddenly, tangling his hand in her ponytail. "Quinn...I was so scared that, that you had fallen ill with what took Liz...oh my God, I was so scared..."

Her face was buried in his shoulder; she could smell sweat and fear on him. She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back a bit.

"When I'm not, um, _indisposed_, I feel okay...please don't worry Sam...please..." she told him, running a hand along his blonde beard, staring into his eyes.

He stared back at her, trying to read her eyes, hoping she meant what she said to him. "I want you to try to drink plenty of water."

She smiled. "I promise I will. Or at least try."

"Let me help with these," he said, pulling the rest of their clothes from the branch and taking what was already in her arms, putting them in the basket. "Do you feel like traveling today?"

"I do..."

At their campsite, they began cleaning up what they had out. Before helping her up to the bench, he stood her in front of him.

"I love you, Quinn Amelia, and I can't help but worry about you," he said quietly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you too, Sam...I promise I'll be fine."

He kissed her, then helped her up onto the bench. Quickly, before leaving, he entered into his journal: _Aug 3, '18 Making good travel to L'ville. Quinn thinks she's with child again._

He climbed aboard and they took the left fork toward Louisville.

_xxxxx_

Driving along, Sam felt his heart was lighter, now knowing what Quinn's condition might be. He had, in fact, been terrified that she was dying and he just knew he couldn't go through that again. He held her hand as they rode along, a bit more slowly now, and every now and again he'd glance over at her.

Quinn watched the scenery pass by. Now that she had shared her suspicion with Sam, she felt a bit more comfortable, still nauseous but happy that she had told him. She felt bad after he had told her he was worried and afraid that she would die like his first wife and that made her wish she had talked to him sooner.

It did concern her that they were traveling and she might be pregnant. With the first pregnancy, she felt she did all the right things, everything her mother and Patsy had told her to do, yet still lost the child. She figured Sam could always find a midwife or country doctor or even a medicine man if need be.

As Sam drove forward, he tried to avoid gaping holes in the path although it was not always possible. Sometimes, the rutted trail would throw the wagon this way and that, and he'd stop and both he and Quinn would right all their belongings before moving forward. The horses, Clyde and Buddy, seemed to be faring well, even though Sam was working them a bit harder now. If possible, he and Quinn ate while he drove instead of stopping. If they began panting too heavily, Sam would stop and water them and rest a bit himself.

At nightfall on August 3rd, they reached the settlement of Mt. Vernon, named after George Washington's home in Virginia, or so said the man tending bar in the lone tavern. Sam and Quinn ate a quick supper, rested the horses, then set off again in the dark, Quinn resting in the back of the wagon. Sam had learned to rig up their belongings in the wagon while Quinn slept there to keep things from tumbling onto her. Sam moved slowly in the dark, watching for divots and ruts in the road, wild animals in the trees, and scoundrels. While Quinn rested in the back, he set his rifle across his lap so it'd be handy if needed.

Sam yawned as he pulled the reins in on the horses to keep them from going to fast along the dark path. He found himself thinking of Quinn, dancing with her at the first Harvest Ball when she wore the brown dress with black piping, how perfect she felt in his arms. He thought of their walks when he courted her and his long trips away from her. He smiled to himself, thinking of all of her clandestine visits to his cabin in the days before their wedding. His thoughts turned to her condition. Could she be with child again? Could he allow himself to happy about that? Thoughts of her being newly pregnant with their first child crept into his mind, then the grief of their loss. He wasn't sure he would let himself hope for a healthy baby until he held one in his arms.

A rustling to his left shook him out of his thoughts and his dozing state. He heard a low growl and reached for his rifle. There was more rustling, more growling, and he realized there was more than one animal in the brush next to him. The moonlight gave off some light, enough that he could make out that they were passing through a grove of some sort of odd tree. The air smelled sweet, heavy, and he wondered if it was some kind of fruit. He quietly trained his gun toward the rustling, laying the reins on his knee.

There was a sudden yelp and a ball of fur jumped into Sam's lap then past him. He shot the gun blindly and heard a wounded cry. All hell broke loose then. He grabbed the reins to control his horses, Quinn was suddenly next to him on the bench, and something furry was tangled at his feet.

Quinn clung to Sam's arms, shaking in fear. "What happened Sam?" she nearly screamed at him.

He was struggling with the horses and from the corner of his eye he could see the shape of a non moving carcass. His gun had fallen from his lap and something was moving about his feet.

"Stay back!" he yelled at Quinn. She immediately went to the back of the wagon again, confused and scared as to what had just happened.

After much struggling with the reins, Sam finally calmed the horses and was alarmed when he realized a furry ball of motion was next to him, licking his hand. He yanked his hand away from the warm rough tongue and even moved his body away from whatever it was next to him. The creature then sat on its hind haunches, looking at Sam, and whimpered.

"Quinn, light a lamp..." Sam called back to her. She had heard the whimper also and wondered what was going on outside of the wagon. She lit a lamp quickly and handed it through the canvas to Sam. She peeked out and saw a furry creature sitting next to Sam on the bench.

"Uh..." Sam mumbled. The dog barked then, and Sam and Quinn both jumped.

"It's a dog!" Quinn said suddenly, smiling at Sam. "What did you shoot though?"

"I nearly shot this dog!" he said, looking over his shoulder at the heap of matted fur on the ground next to the wagon. He held the lantern over it to get a better look. "I shot a wolf."

Quinn looked over Sam's back and clutched her belly a little. "Ohhhh..."

The small dog yipped at them again, gaining their attention.

"Be careful, Quinn, don't let him bite you..." Sam said to her quietly, not taking his eyes off the canine. To the dog, he said, "Hey there fella...you gave us quite a fright."

Sam tentatively reached out to the dog and petted the top of his head between his pointy ears. The dog whimpered a bit at Sam's touch but made no motion to attack him. Quinn watched the dog's tail thump against the wagon bench.

He was a slight dog, a bit dirty from being in the wild, but appeared to be friendly. He was sturdy, Sam knew that from when he pounced onto his lap. He seemed to have wiry white fur with splotches of brown, black, and gray. His eyes were big and dark; his nose black. Quinn thought he looked to have a beard.

"Are you lost, boy?" she asked the dog. His pointy ears pointed this way and that at the sound of her voice.

They all sat there for a moment, quietly. "Well, what should we do with him?" Sam asked Quinn finally.

She shrugged. "Even in this light I can tell he needs a bath..."

"Well, the smell gives that away," Sam laughed. "You want to ride with us for awhile, boy?"

The dog took its place next to Sam, facing forward.

"I guess that means he wants to," Sam said to Quinn. "Can you sit with him for a minute?"

"Sure," she said, climbing onto the bench to the right of the dog. Sam hopped down from the wagon, found a sturdy stick, and pushed the wolf off the path. He then wandered to the back of the wagon to pee. That whole incident nearly caused him to piss his pants.

He returned to find Quinn holding the mutt in her lap.

"Sam, this dog is adorable! He's nearly human!"

Sam chuckled. "I wouldn't go that far, Quinn...he seems like a good fella, though." He took his seat at the reins.

"I think I shall sit with you two for a bit," Quinn told him. "I'm not sleepy anymore."

"I'd enjoy your company," Sam replied. "And the stars are out tonight."

She looked upward. "The heavens are beautiful this evening..."

The dog crawled from Quinn's lap and stood next to Sam on the bench, nudging his arm.

"Your nose is cold and wet, dog," Sam said, laughing but petting the dog.

The dog turned around a couple times one way, turned around once the other way, and dropped his body against Sam's hip. Quinn stroked his fur, albeit dirty, until the dog was sleeping between them.

"I think he was tuckered out," she said to Sam.

"Probably from running from that wolf...I prob'ly owe this dog my life though...had it not been for him jumping on me I would've shot sooner..." Sam sighed, ruffling the dog's fur.

"He'll make a fine traveling companion, I think," Quinn said, gazing at the stars once more.

_xxxxx_

**August 4, 1818**

"He needs a name..." Sam hollered to Quinn who was sitting on the bank of the creek, watching Sam try to bathe their new dog.

She giggled when Sam sat the dog on the grass and he shook his entire body, from the tip of his black nose to the tip of his white fluffy tail. Sam sat down next to Quinn, drenched.

"He looks so much better, and I'm sure he smells better, as well," she said, still giggling. The dog was presently running around them, chasing a butterfly.

"What's a good name for a mutt?" Sam asked Quinn.

"You know I dislike it when you call him a mutt...he's our dog..." she said. She called to the pup, and he ran to her. She took him in her arms and let him kiss her cheek while Sam grimaced next to her. "He looks like a Charlie to me."

Sam watched the dog chase its own tail. "Charlie is a good name; I like it. Charlie it is!"

The dog seemed to take to his name, responding when either Sam or Quinn called him by it. Sam noticed that when Quinn played with the dog or talked to him or just petted him on her lap her nausea seemed to calm down. And when she was sick and throwing up, Charlie seemed nervous, worried, anxious about her. Sam would talk to the dog after checking on Quinn, telling Charlie that Quinn would be fine. He was still trying to get in as much travel as possible each day to get them closer to Louisville. Sometimes, Charlie would lead the horses, especially after dark, down the path.

They passed through a tiny town named Crab Orchard. Sam guessed that was because of all the apple trees.

"The smell is almost too much," Quinn said, turning up her nose. The air was heavy and sweet.

They stopped at the general store there and bought a jar of applesauce, neither one of them had ever tasted anything quite like it. Quinn also bought a small jar of apple butter, and they each tried apple cider. The trail was lined with apple trees so they picked some bright red ones for the rest of their trip.

"I can't stop eating these," Quinn said to Sam in between bites.

"They must be healthy for you," he replied, smiling at her.

"I hope so...they're delicious!"

An issue Sam and Quinn had never had to deal with cropped up when Sam lay down to take a nap with Quinn in between Crab Orchard and Stanford. The day was cloudy with a breeze and Quinn had hung their clothes and decided to nap while waiting for them to dry. When Sam curled up next to her, kissing her cheek and neck, his hand on her thigh, they found a softly growling Charlie at their feet.

They both looked at the dog.

"Charlie, boy, what's wrong?" Sam asked him.

"He thinks you're trying to hurt me," Quinn whispered.

"Oh no, Charles, I'm not hurting Quinn...just loving her...c'mere boy..."

And thus began the dog's lifelong trait of sleeping with Sam and Quinn, sometimes at their feet, sometimes curled into their back, sometimes between them.

_xxxxx_

**August 5-6, 1818**

The third day after leaving their traveling group behind, Sam and Quinn passed through Harrodsburg. There, they were told the next town, Bardstown, was roughly 50 miles away, then another 50 miles to Louisville. Sam figured they had at least three more days on the road if he tried to travel straight through. Luckily, Quinn had been drinking the tea Mrs. Motta had given her and nibbling on the hardtack, trying to keep her nausea in check and it had been working. To Sam, though, she appeared somewhat gaunt, her cheeks hollowed in, and she was pale. Charlie definitely sensed her illness, keeping her company when not doing his job. Sam and Quinn decided that the dog knew he had a job to do (lead the horses, protect them), and he was bound and determined to do his job to the fullest.

They reached Bardstown on the fourth day, and Sam took a quick nap and kept moving. They passed through a town called Shepherdsville overnight and Sam kept moving. Once it was daylight, he started seeing signs for Louisville. They were getting close.

Sam stopped just outside Shepherdsville to rest and re-read the letter from Quinn's uncle, Jon Palmer. He had given explicit instructions on how to find his farm once they got near Louisville. Sam was more interested in finding a doctor first, then would get them to her uncle's. He noticed after leaving Shepherdsville that the road had become wider and was now more a road than a wagon trail. Traffic was increasing, as well.

Jon Palmer's farm was actually west of Louisville, on the outskirts of a town called Brandenburg, which was situated on the banks of the Ohio River. He farmed 80 acres plus ran a flatboat down the Ohio River when he could. He was married to a woman named America and they had two young sons, Will and Stith.

"That's a curious name," Quinn said, reading the letter herself. "Stith."

"Well, he's married to America," Sam said, petting Charlie.

"I can't wait to see his flatboat," she said.

"I can't wait to see the actual river," he told her. He tossed a stick, and Charlie fetched it and brought it back to Sam.

"I can't wait to sleep in an actual bed!" she giggled.

Sam put his arm around her shoulders. "I know this travel has been rough on you. We appear to be about halfway done, though."

They rested for a bit longer, Quinn resting her head on Sam's shoulder, then reboarded their wagon and set off again.

_xxxxx_

**August 8, 1818**

The heat seemed worse as they neared Louisville. Even Charlie rode in the wagon as opposed to leading the way. Sam knew his horses were weary, as they all were, but he still wanted to get Quinn to a doctor. He knew that getting her into Louisville proper held their best odds of finding a reputable physician.

It took two more days and nights of nearly constant travel but finally they reached the outskirts of the bustling river town. When they had visited Richmond, Virginia, they thought that was a large town. Louisville was probably twice as large, spread out over more land, with constant activity along the river. Quinn sat next to Sam as he navigated through the crowds to get to the center of town, stroking Charlie on her lap, as she gazed at the grand homes they were passing by. She looked at the street names: Chesnut Street, Walnut Street, Green Street, Jefferson Street, Market Street, Main Street, Washington Street. They were traveling down First Street.

Once in downtown Louisville, the buildings amazed them both. Most were built of brick or a smooth gray stone and a few of wood and logs, most at least two stories tall. They passed a couple inns, general stores and warehouses, the city school, two banks, the magazine, the courthouse and jail, many churches, a pottery shop, even a library and theater. Quinn watched people walking along paths in front of the storefronts, all seeming to know where they were going and what they were doing. Looking down the side streets, she saw many homes, the streets tree-lined. And so many carriages! Much like her buckboard that she left at her father's farm but much fancier. Even the horses leading the carriages and wagons seemed to prance, realizing the busy feel in the air. As they neared the river, they passed the trade shops: butcher, blacksmith, tinsmith, a mill, livery, dressmakers. Sam kept his eye open for a physician's office.

"What's a...a...haber...habadash..." Sam asked Quinn, pointing at a shop next to the dressmaker's. _Haberdashery_.

"I'm not sure..." Outside the shop was a shelf of men's hats and cravats.

"Oh! Look ahead!" he said, all attention forgotten about the hat shop. He was pointing at the Ohio River directly in front of them. He stopped their wagon at was called the Publick Wharf.

He climbed down from their wagon and hitched the horses to a post, then helped Quinn and Charlie down. He took her hand and walked toward where another group of people were viewing the river scene. They stood at a wooden fence, looking out over the river, at all the activity happening. They had seen the James River in Virginia, of course, but this was nothing like that at all. The Ohio River was bustling with people and boats, working, laughing; the river was useful and served a purpose for the city of Louisville. On the other side of the river, there seemed to be warehouses and boating-related shops but beyond that it was all forest.

"It's like the river is alive, Sam," Quinn muttered quietly. He agreed; she summed it up perfectly. He wrapped his arm around her waist, letting the breeze off the river cool them down.

"Let's go sit in the shade for a bit," she said finally. "I think Charlie is getting antsy!" A small shaded sitting area was nearby. The dog was squirming in her arms and she thought it best to let him run around for a bit.

They sat down under a large tree after Sam retrieved a couple apples from the wagon. Charlie kept himself busy running around and being petted by small children and ladies alike, never straying far from Sam and Quinn though.

"How're you feeling today, Quinn?" Sam asked her.

"Well, fine I'd say...all this," she waved her arm around toward Louisville. "is pretty exciting."

"I'd like for you to see a doctor today."

"I know, Sam. Can we afford that?"

He nodded. "Even if we couldn't, I'd find a way."

Charlie bounded up to them, panting.

"You're a hot dog, Charles...come," Sam said, standing up. "I'll walk him down to the river's edge to get a drink."

"I'll come with you," Quinn said, standing up as well.

They walked down, right to the rushing river's edge, and let Charlie lap up the clear water until he was full. While standing there, Sam could see fish swimming near the surface. The flatboats floating by created wakes that sent tiny waves lapping at the bank. Sam knelt down and put his hand in the water, finding it to be refreshingly cool. He cupped some in his hands and splashed his face with it.

"Sam!" Quinn said, surprised but laughing.

He looked up at her smiling. "It feels wonderful, Quinn...try it."

She figured if she was going to see a doctor that day washing the sweat and grime from her face would be wise. So, she knelt alongside Sam and did the same, shrieking in delight at how cool it was on her hot skin. She realized other people looking at the river saw her and even men on the flatboats cat-called her when they noticed her laughing out loud. With that, Sam put his arm protectively through hers and led her away, Charlie following them back to their wagon.

"Okay...I need to stop somewhere and ask where a doctor is who could see you," Sam said once they were situated on the wagon and pulling away from the river.

They first passed the library, so Quinn suggested they stop there since people of all ages were going in and out, men, women, and children, all carrying books.

"It's called the Louisville Library Company...what do they do?" Sam said, reading the sign.

"Do they have books?" Quinn asked him. Sam shrugged. He set Charlie in the back of the wagon, telling him to stay put, then he and Quinn walked to the double oaken doors and entered.

Inside the building they stopped and stared. Quinn couldn't believe her eyes; she had never seen so many books in one place at a time. And people were walking out with armloads of them! The building was part wood and part brick and windows all around were open so papers and pages were fluttering slightly with a breeze. Shelves upon shelves of books lined the two walls at each end of the building. A large desk was situated in the center of the giant room, and small tables were scattered all around. Sam took Quinn's hand and they stepped up to the large desk.

A very prim lady looked at them, waiting for them to speak. "Yes?" she asked finally.

"Uh, hello ma'am, my wife and I are from out of town..." Sam began. Quinn was paying no attention to him. She was watching a young mother with her two young charges standing at another part of the desk, speaking with another prim lady.

"Yes sir?" the lady asked impatiently, tapping her fingers on the counter.

Quinn watched the young woman put a stack of a few books on the counter plus a small piece of paper, tucked in the top book's cover. The lady behind the desk took the stack of books, sat down, and marked each book in a ledger. She marked on the small piece of paper, tucking it back inside the top book, and handed the stack to the young woman who thanked her.

"We're in need of a doctor's services, if you could tell me where a doctor might be located?" Sam asked nervously.

"Oh, the hospital is on Market Street and Fourth Street...you'll find many physicians there," the lady told him.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Quinn said, still staring at the young lady with the books.

"Yes?"

"All these books...people can just..._take_ them?" Quinn asked her in amazement.

"We are a subscription service...people subscribe to our service, we use that money to purchase books, then those people can borrow the books for 2 weeks at a time," the lady explained to Quinn. "Of course, there are different types of subscription. Some people just come in and read the book, some people subscribe for 6 months, some for a year, some lifelong."

Quinn was just astounded by the concept. She had read the two books she owned countless times plus the Bible...she would devour the books in this building if given the chance. She wouldn't even mind _working _there. Looking around again before Sam took her hand in his, she noticed large paintings adorning bare areas of the walls. Not only did she miss reading but she also missed painting.

Walking out of the building, she said to Sam, "I could live there."

He laughed, knowing she meant that.

_xxxxx_

"Okay, Market Street and Fourth, she said," Sam said, mostly to himself, snapping the reins gently. "She said it was a, a hospital..."

Neither one of them was quite sure what a hospital was.

"She said there are a lot of doctors there..." Sam told Quinn as he drove down First Street, looking at the side streets. He saw Market Street and turned toward the west.

He passed Second Street, Third Street, and then the brick building was looming before them. Wagons and carriages and people were going every which way around the large building into surrounding smaller structures. The sign at the front said Louisville City Hospital. It was a grand three-story structure with four large columns adorning the entrance and white shutters next to each window. Sam saw the hitching posts and guided the horses to an open slot.

He reached over to Quinn and stroked her arm a little. "Are you ready for this?"

The heat and all the activity was making her a bit nauseous, but she nodded and smiled. "Yes, Samuel, I'm ready." She recalled taking her sister to a physician's office in Richmond, Virginia, so she had an idea of what to expect.

He nodded back to her and retrieved all their cash on hand, a total of $112.82, and he closed the flaps on the wagon.

"Charlie, you sit here and keep an eye on the wagon, boy," Sam told him. Charlie sat on the bench like a sentient.

Sam put his hand at the small of Quinn's back, feeling the sweat seeping through her dress, and led her through the iron gates to the front doors of the hospital.

_xxxxx_

Sam was thankful to see the large desk as soon as he opened the door to the hospital. People were rushing past them into the building and past them out of the building. It was overwhelming to them; they felt lost. They stepped up to the desk where three men sat, all dressed in white uniforms. Sam did all the speaking.

"Yes sir?" one of the men asked Sam.

"My wife needs to see a doctor. Is there someone available?"

"What is her name and her ailments, sir?"

"Quinn Amelia Evans," Sam answered, watching the man write his wife's name. "She has been ill to her stomach, not able to eat much..."

The man looked to Quinn. "Any childbirth?"

Sam was a little stunned by the bluntness of the question. "Uh, once but the child didn't survive."

"Any pain in the stomach? Are her monthlies normal?"

Again, he was a bit taken aback. "No pain. She hasn't had a monthly in some time now. We've been traveling."

The man wrote down the information Sam had given him. "There is a midwife who could see her after lunch. Will that be sufficient?"

Sam looked to Quinn; she nodded.

"Yes, sir, that'll be fine," Sam replied nervously.

"You may have a seat in the waiting room. You'll be called when Nurse Peck is available," the man told Sam.

"Thank you..." Sam said as Quinn tugged him away from the desk.

"You can eat your lunch; I'll wait in here," she told him.

"I can't leave you in here alone, that's not proper Quinn!" Sam said.

"Well, it's not proper for you to starve either! You need to eat so you might as well find something in the wagon or down the street. I'll be fine in here," she said, though the combination of smells and heat was making her reel a bit.

He sighed. "I can bring you something to eat, are you hungry?"

"No, not really," she said quietly. The thought of putting anything on her stomach even made her nauseous.

Sam looked around the expansive waiting room. He found a seat closest to the desk and had her sit there.

"I'll be right back...you sure you'll be okay?" he asked again.

"I'm sure, Sam...now go!" she said, laughing a little.

Reluctantly, he left her side. She turned toward a window where a faint breeze was blowing in. She glanced around the waiting room at others waiting to be seen. Most of the people there were men. From the look of them, they worked on the boats at the river in some capacity or just did hard labor. There were only a handful of women and children present. Sam returned quickly carrying an apple and hardtack for Quinn.

"All is fine with the wagon...I got back here as quickly as possible...no one bothered you, did they?" he asked, sitting down with her.

"Not a soul," she said, eagerly taking the apple and chomping into it.

Sam looked around the room much like she had done earlier. "A lot of people here to be seen..."

"Mhmm..."

They sat there in the sweltering stagnant heat of the room, fanning themselves with what they could find, watching others being called to an examination room. Finally, after what had seemed like hours, a tall skinny woman dressed in a navy blue skirt and white blouse announced _Quinn Evans_.

Sam and Quinn looked at one another and stood up quickly, walking up to the lady.

"I'm Mrs. Evans," Quinn said to her.

"This way, Mrs. Evans," the tall lady replied, turning on her heel. She held a leather-bound binder in her arms.

She led them down a large hall behind the front desk and to a room on the right. She shut the door once they were all inside. There was a small table and chair, two extra chairs, and an elevated bed in the center of the room. On a counter next to the bed were an assortment of instruments.

"Mrs. Evans, please forgive me for your wait...I was called urgently to the bedside of a woman in confinement," the lady told them. "I'm Nurse Peck, the midwife here."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Sam said politely, sitting nervously, grasping his hat in his hands. As was custom for the time, Sam told the examiner about his wife's ailments. "My wife has been having stomach problems for the last week."

"Have a seat, Mrs. Evans," Nurse Peck, sitting down herself. "What kind of stomach problems?"

"She's been vomiting, not able to hardly eat or drink, except for apples...she can tolerate apples," Sam said.

"Feverish?" the nurse asked, noting things in Quinn's chart.

"She felt hot one day...that's why I'm worried...my first wife died from a fever," Sam explained. "We've been traveling for some time now..."

"Where from?"

"Virginia..."

Nurse Peck smiled. "That's quite a'ways away. On first glance, Mr. Evans, your wife looks like the picture of perfect health, maybe a bit pale, tired, but I imagine that's from your travel. I'm going to do a quick examination and ask Mrs. Evans some questions, if that is okay."

Sam nodded, glancing at Quinn. She nodded and looked to the nurse.

The nurse asked her questions about the nausea and if she had had any pain. She then asked about the previous pregnancy and its details, answers to which Quinn replied quietly. The next questions were focused on her monthly. The best Quinn could remember the last normal one she had was in June shortly before they left on their journey. It was now mid August. The nurse noted all this, then closed the binder.

"Mrs. Evans, if you could please sit on the exam table," Nurse Peck gestured toward the bed.

Sam helped Quinn step up on the stool to sit on the elevated bed. The nurse began by feeling Quinn's forehead and then used a variety of instruments on her chest. She said she was listening to her heart and lungs. She then asked Quinn to lie back on the bed and relax. She pressed on all areas of her belly, asking if she was tender anywhere. Quinn didn't feel any pain or tenderness and just laid still while the nurse carried out her examination.

"Okay, Mrs. Evans, you may sit up now," the nurse said, helping her to sit up. "I will need a urine sample please and then I'll let you know my findings." She handed Quinn a glass jar and pointed her down the hall a bit to a private room. Quinn was amused to see that this room was like an outhouse inside the building. She collected her sample and returned to the exam room. The nurse took the small glass jar and left, telling them she'd return shortly. Quinn sat next to the open window, hoping to catch a breeze. Sam held her hand in his.

"Did the nurse say anything to you, Sam?" Quinn asked him.

"Only that she doesn't think it's anything serious…" he answered.

They sat there quietly for a moment.

"I wonder if Charlie's okay?" she asked Sam.

"He was fine earlier, just sitting on the wagon, watching everyone," Sam laughed.

Quinn smiled. "I really like that dog."

"Me too…"

Nurse Peck returned then with her leather binder.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans, I have some news for you," she said, smiling.

Sam and Quinn moved to the edge of their seats, still holding hands, waiting for what she said next.


	28. Palmers

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 28-Palmers**

**Traveling westward through Kentucky, August 1818**

**August 8, 1818, Louisville, Kentucky**

"Yes, ma'am?" Sam asked, nervously.

"Mrs. Evans is expectant," Nurse Peck said, smiling. "Congratulations."

Sam squeezed Quinn's hand, then wrapped his arm around her, kissing her temple.

"My guess is she's approximately 6 weeks gone," the nurse told them. "And what she's experiencing is very commonplace. The information you gave me about the first child's demise, though, concerns me. How much farther will you be traveling?"

"We're headed north to Indiana now," Sam replied.

The nurse frowned slightly. "So you still have quite a distance to go and the land of Indiana is still heavily forested, many red men still reside there, not wanting to leave the territory. What stress Mrs. Evans is under is a concern. If at all possible, she needs to be confined to bed, for the best chance of survival of the child."

Sam and Quinn looked at one another.

"That's just not possible, Nurse Peck. We need to be in Indiana before winter falls," Quinn said, looking from Sam to the nurse and back to Sam.

"It is, of course, Mr. Evans' decision; this is just my recommendation. You each know one another better than I do and if you feel you can make the rest of your trip then you do what you feel is best," Nurse Peck said. "From my examination, though, Mrs. Evans, you seem to be in very good health."

The nurse went on to talk to them about what to expect the next few weeks (continued nausea, fatigue, cravings) and signs that something was wrong and needed a doctor's attention (fever, fainting, bleeding). She was very blunt with them, and, even though it was somewhat embarrassing to them, Sam and Quinn appreciated her candidness.

"Do either of you have any questions?" Nurse Peck asked them.

"No ma'am, thank you very much for seeing my wife," Sam said, standing.

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Evans," the nurse said. She handed him a slip of paper. "You can handle that at the desk on your way out. Take care and Godspeed."

She opened the door to their room and ushered them out to the hallway. Quinn mumbled a quiet _thank you_ to her as she passed by.

They walked slowly toward the front of the building and the large desk, people pushing past them, going this way and that. Sam was gripping the slip of paper in his hand when he stopped at the desk, still in shock at the nurse's good news for him and Quinn.

"Sir?" the man at the desk asked Sam. He was holding his hand out as if he expected something.

Sam looked dumbfounded, then realized the paper in his hand. He shoved it into the man's hand and looked to Quinn.

"That'll be five dollars, sir," Sam was told.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his folded up stack of bills. He counted out five ones and handed them to the man. He was handed a scribbled receipt in return.

"That's all? We're done?" he asked Quinn.

"I think so, Sam," she said, taking his hand and leading him back outside into the afternoon heat.

Charlie sensed their presence and left the wagon, running to greet them.

"Charlie, good boy! You did a great job! Charlie, Quinn is to be a mother!" Sam said, picking the dog up.

Quinn smiled, hearing Sam say those words with such happiness. She stopped him.

"Are you truly happy, Samuel?" she asked him.

"I'm very happy, Quinn. How do you feel about what the nurse said? We could stay here in Louisville until you have the babe, then go on to Indiana…"

"Sam, you know the land will all be picked over by then…we need to take advantage of your benefit _now_," she said. "I'm strong enough to keep traveling."

Sam set Charlie down and took Quinn into his arms. He didn't care that it was midday on a bustling city street; he loved her and was going to embrace her when he felt like it.

"I want you to be well this time, Quinn Amelia. I don't want to take any chances. I love you so much, Quinn," he said into her messy hair.

"I love you too, Sam…I do feel strong enough to do this…after a rest at my uncle's, of course. And, I'd tell you if I thought I was having problems," she told him, kissing his scruffy cheek.

"We can talk about this further at your uncle's," Sam said. "I'm surprised your visit with the nurse was so affordable."

He helped her up to the wagon bench, then handed her Charlie. He came around to his side of the wagon after unhitching the horses and stepped up to the bench, taking the reins in his hands.

"To Jon Palmer's?" he asked Quinn.

"To Jon Palmer's!"

_xxxxx_

Sam figured out how to get them back to the public wharf. He stopped and asked if there was a way for him to rent a flatboat to carry their wagon downriver to the Palmer's farm. There were many flatboat runners eager for business. Sam chose one large enough to accommodate the wagon and his team of horses and at sunset on August 8, 1818, they set off down the Ohio River toward Brandenburg. The trip downriver cost him another five dollars.

The man running the flatboat explained that the current took the boat downriver. He had his own horse on board to tow him back to Louisville. Sam grabbed a couple apples for him and Quinn and they sat on their chairs as they drifted down the river. Quinn munched on her apple, watching the scenery drift by, thinking of what the nurse had told them…she was pregnant again. Only six weeks though. That was so scary to her. The nurse had told her that most likely her date of confinement would be in March of the next year. To Quinn, that seemed like a lifetime away.

Sam opened his journal to record his thoughts about traveling on a flatboat down the Ohio River.

_The river is wide and cleer, busy with much activaty. The boat carries our wagen, our team, and ourselfs. We will be to Palmers soon. Quinn is with child agin. She will be confined in March of '19._

Quinn asked for his journal and pencil and began sketching the scene as they floated slowly down the river. As they moved farther away from Louisville, there were larger plantations on the south side of the river. On the north side of the river, the Indiana side, it was mostly forest.

The man operating the flatboat told Sam how it worked. He said the current of the river was the main propelling force. He stood at the back of the vehicle controlling the rudder. He also held a tall pole in his hand, made of hickory, he said. He said it reached the river's floor and he could use it to maneuver the boat along with the rudder. Sam was interested in how it worked and listened intently to the man's explanations while Quinn sketched the passing scenery.

They heard a loud noise approaching them.

"What's that?" Sam asked the man.

"The _Belle of Louisville_, sir, a fine steamboat if I do say so myself," the man said, steering his boat to let the larger craft pass.

"A steamboat?" Quinn asked, rolling with the flatboat in the steamboat's wake. "Oh...Sam..." She stood up, clutching her stomach, running past him to the other side of the boat, hurling over the side into the river. Once the boat stopped the rolling motion, she slowly made her way back to her chair.

The man laughed a giant laugh. "Happens to all the ladyfolk!"

Sam handed Quinn a handkerchief to clean off her face. She was mortified and just wanted to crawl into the wagon and hide from the flatboat man.

Sam sat down next to Quinn, trying not to crowd her in the heat but making sure she was okay. He looked at her drawing of the houses along the banks of the Ohio River and wondered how she could capture so much in such little time. At one point during their trip down the Ohio, Charlie noticed a school of fish swimming close to the surface of the water and jumped into the river. Sam had to fish the dog out after the flatboat operator dropped his anchor to stop the boat momentarily. Sam had to climb down into the water and hand the wet dog up to the man who found it all hilarious. Sam didn't find it so much funny but the water was refreshing in the heat.

After a couple hours of floating, the man directed his boat to a pier, telling him they were at Brandenburg.

"By wagon, it would've taken you a day and a half to get here, if you were lucky," he told Sam.

They unloaded the wagon onto the pier while Quinn waited with Charlie in the shade. She was actually feeling a bit hungry so she hoped they found the Palmers' farm quickly. They were losing daylight fast, though. Sam helped the man hitch his work horse to the flatboat and bid him good day.

"Are you ready to find your uncle's?" Sam asked Quinn, helping her up onto the wagon.

"Very much so, Samuel," she replied. "I'm hungry. Are you?"

"Starving...your uncle's farm should be nearby, according to his instructions," Sam said, snapping the reins.

Brandenburg was not nearly as sophisticated as Louisville; it was more of a port town with mostly taverns clustered in the town proper, an inn, one general store, and a livery. Sam pulled through town, ignoring the drunk men stumbling from the taverns, and found the first major road south of town.

"Louisville Pike, head east..." he mumbled to himself. He turned the wagon to the left on the dusty road.

"Go a half-mile, farm on the south..."

Clyde and Buddy plodded along, kicking up dust. Finally, Sam saw a well-worn sign at the end of a drive, reading _Palmers_.

"We're here, Quinn," Sam said, smiling.

Quinn vaguely remembered her uncle, a man about 10 years older than her, her mother's youngest brother. He left Virginia when she was 10, heading to Kentucky with the family of the girl he would marry. She remembered him as being a tall man, always smiling, jovial.

The drive to their farmhouse was a lot like the drive on her father's farm. They approached the two-story home slowly, seeing people sitting on the porch. A tall man stood up to come out to greet them, smiling broadly.

"Quinny?" he asked, squinting. "Is that you, child?"

"Tis I, Uncle Jon!" she said, happily.

He rushed up to the side of the wagon and pulled her down, hugging her tightly. "I'm so glad you two made it safe and sound!"

He set her down, staring at her. "You look just like your ma."

Quinn considered that a compliment as she thought her mother was beautiful. "Thank you, Uncle Jon. This is my husband, Sam Evans, and our dog, Charlie."

"Welcome, Sam, and hello there Charlie!" He shook Sam's hand and scooped up Charlie who was begging for his attention. "I have a purty lady dog you might like to meet."

Looking from Sam to Quinn, Jon said, "You two must be exhausted. Come in...are you hungry? The wife hasn't put up dinner yet...there's plenty...beef stew and biscuits..."

Quinn's mouth was watering. "Dinner sounds nice," she said, trying not to run into the house.

Sam wrapped his arm around Quinn's waist, knowing she wanted to bolt into the house. On the porch, they were introduced to Mrs. America Palmer. She stood and immediately hugged Quinn.

"We're so happy you made it here safely; it is such a burdensome journey," she said in a dainty voice. She suddenly turned around and bellowed, "William! Leave the chicks _alone_!"

Turning back to Sam and Quinn and back in her dainty voice, she said, "Please come in...I'll get your dinners..."

She ushered them into the house, which reminded Sam a lot of his grandmother's farmhouse in Virginia. Quinn's uncle grabbed the young William to bring him inside. In a cradle in the main room was their infant son, Stith. He was whimpering a bit so Quinn asked if she could hold him. America okayed it, and Quinn picked him up gently from his cradle. She sat down in a nearby rocker to rock him. It suddenly made her miss her nephew Jimmy. As if reading her mind, Jon suddenly jumped up to the mantle.

"This came for you folks a few days ago!" He pulled a letter from behind a tin of tobacco and handed it to Sam.

Sam examined the handwriting...it was from Quinn's mother. He looked up at her, but she was presently occupied with singing to the infant boy. He tucked the letter in his pocket to give to her after supper.

"I need to put up the team..." Sam said to Jon.

"Oh sure...c'mon, I'll show ya where to put 'em," Jon answered, heading back outside. Sam followed him and was joined by Charlie outside.

"William, sit down!" America barked at the young boy running about the room. "You're disturbing our guest!"

Quinn looked up. "No, he's fine! Let him play. I miss the laughter of young ones."

"You're doing a fine job with the baby...he will never stop crying for me," America said, setting plates on the table. "You come eat...I'll take the young 'un."

Quinn stood up and handed her the baby, her stomach growling. She sat down at the table, and America did also.

"How did you think of the name Stith? Such a unique name," Quinn asked, taking bite after bite of stew.

"My twin sister's husband's last name is Stith; he's a close friend of Jon's," America told her.

"I see," Quinn said. "This stew is wonderful...thank you so much."

America giggled. "You looked hungry. Are you feeling alright?"

Quinn looked up at the young girl staring back at her with big eyes. "I'm 6 weeks gone with child."

An expression of joy crossed America's face. "I thought there was something about you!"

Quinn wondered if she'd ever have that ability, to be able to tell when someone was pregnant just by looking at them. "This is the first time I've felt hungry for quite some time. The food is delicious."

"Well, here, have yourself another biscuit, Mrs. Evans!"

"Quinn, you can call me Quinn." She eagerly took the biscuit.

"Quinn, how long do you and your husband plan on staying? You're welcome as long as you need to be here," America asked her, getting up to put the now-sleeping child back in his cradle.

"That's up to Sam..."

"You're going on to Indiana, correct?"

Quinn nodded.

"It's such hard work, clearing the land. Will you have help there? Do you know people there already?"

Quinn nodded again. "Mother's sister Anne and her husband and Granny Palmer are all there..."

"Jon's mother?" America laughed. "She never was too fond of me!"

"Really?" Quinn asked. So far, she thought America was a delightful host.

"I guess she thought my twin sister was a bit..._incorrigible_...when we were younger and that might be true...Amanda _is _a pistol!"

Quinn giggled. "I hope I get to meet her while we're visiting."

"Oh, you shall! They live on the other side of the road," America laughed. "Jon crosses their land to run his boat."

America filled Quinn's bowl with more stew as she spoke, which Quinn happily continued eating. "Without them, we would've never made it here."

There was a ruckus on the porch, then footsteps coming through the door.

"'Merica! This man is hungry!" Jon all but shouted, waking the baby, riling up William, and making several dogs bark.

Sam followed Jon sheepishly to the table. America stood up to her husband and said _yes master _and they both started laughing. She filled Sam's bowl with stew and added two biscuits.

"Will lemonade be okay? I just squeezed it fresh this morning," America asked Sam, pouring him a cup of it already.

"That'll be fine...thank you, ma'am," he replied, sitting across from Quinn. "I see you've had some to eat."

"I have, and it was delicious," Quinn said, smiling.

America picked up the crying infant and put him to her breast while Jon bounced the older boy on his knee.

"It's your bedtime, young man," Jon said to William. "I'll take you to the outhouse, then it's off to bed!"

The little boy whined a bit but took his father's hand and followed him out the door.

"What did you all think of Louisville?" America asked in the quietness, pronouncing it _Lou-uh-ville_.

"It was a busy town," Quinn answered. "We stopped at the Library Company."

"With all the books? We've heard about that business," America said.

"We saw the hospital, too," Quinn continued. "I met a very nice midwife."

"We drove past a haberdashery," Sam added. America looked to Quinn, and Quinn shrugged, smiling. She felt at home at the Palmers'.

When Sam finished his meal, Quinn took their dirty dishes to a makeshift sink to clean them.

"You shall do no such thing!" America said, jumping up to walk her away from the cleaning area. "I'll take care of these. You need to rest now. You and Sam will be staying upstairs. It isn't much, but there's a bed with a tick mattress that should do wonders for your back." Quinn stood there looking at her, in shock. "Come now! Let's go!"

"I'll bring in your belongings, Quinn. You can go rest," Sam told her.

America lit a lamp, checked on Stith, then led the way up a narrow staircase to a large open room. True to her word, there was a bed and a simple nightstand next to it. There were two chairs there also and hooks on the wall for their clothes. There was a window on either side of the room, covered with billowy material that was floating on the soft night breeze.

"You sleep as long as you need to. I will not hear of you rising with the rooster, ya hear?"

Quinn giggled. "Yes, ma'am." Quinn found it funny to call her _ma'am_ when she knew America could not be more than five years older than herself. America set the lamp down and hugged her quickly.

"I'm so happy to have met you, Quinn...sleep well," she said and went back downstairs.

Quinn sat on the edge of the bed in the relative darkness. She bounced a little up and down, slipped her boots off, then lay back against the pillows.

When Sam brought their box of belongings upstairs, he found her fast asleep. He set the box down, turned down the lamp, took off his boots, and lay down next to her. She must've felt his presence because she moaned a bit and rolled toward his body. He managed to work his arms around her, kissed her on the top of her head, and fell asleep himself.

_xxxxx_

**August 9, 1818**

The crowing of the rooster woke Quinn. Plus the crying of Stith and the rambunctiousness of William was more than enough to bring her out of her deep slumber. Cracking open one eye she realized she was still fully dressed, as was Sam. She stretched out. Sleeping in the bed felt wonderful, though she missed Charlie's presence.

Her movement stirred Sam awake. Again, he wrapped himself around her, his eyes still closed, and murmured in her ear _good morning beautiful_.

She smiled. She knew she looked far from beautiful...her hair was tangled in her ponytail, her clothes smelly, her skin grimy from their travel the day before. All he saw...all he _felt_...was beauty laying next to him that morning.

"Good morning, Samuel," she whispered back, hanging onto the moment for as long as she could. Even though they had been told to sleep in, they both knew they were expected to help with the chores in exchange for staying there. And that work didn't bother them. They actually welcomed it after being on the road for more than a month.

The sun was streaming into the room already, the curtains fluttering over the open windows. They could hear the sounds of the family below them waking up and going about their chores and routine. Sam and Quinn lay in the bed against one another until their combined warmth forced them to rise.

"How do you feel?" Sam asked her.

"Very well rested," Quinn replied, tugging her boots on. "Maybe we can find a swimmin' hole today?"

"Great idea!"

Quinn made up their bed quickly. Sam came around to stand behind her.

"I love you so much," he said quietly to her. "This…this came for you…"

He handed her the letter. She sucked in her breath and sat down on the bed, holding the treasured paper in her hands. She read her mother's handwriting, the letter addressed to _Mr. and Mrs. Jn Palmer, Louisville, Kentucky_, with a small notation at the bottom _to be delivered to Mr. Samuel B. Evans_.

She patted the bed next to her for Sam to sit down.

"I'll read it out loud…" she said to him, knowing that most likely the letter would contain information about the Feazels as well as her family. He sat down next to her and waited for her to carefully open the letter.

_Dearest Samuel and Quinn,_

_We have received your letters, thank you for writing. We hope this finds you both well. Please send our greetings to the Palmers. We miss you both dearly._

_The carpentry business is booming yet. Peyton has learned much from Samuel and is earning a good amount of money for himself and Mr. Fabray. He and Martha welcomed a son soon after you left for N. Carolina, a healthy boy who is named Hudson. He has brown hair and looks much like Peyton._

_Mr. and Mrs. Martin are faring well, along with little James. Kate is expectant again, due at the turn of year. She sends her love and says she misses you both dearly. James is now helping Peyton with the furniture so Mr. Fabray can stay home more often._

_Thomas and John are doing well, as is Joseph. All are doing well in their studies. They have all started courting young ladies in the neighborhood, very upstanding young ladies we are pleased to announce. Joseph has officially began courting Nancy Ann Watson, Samuel's cousin._

_It is with a heavy heart that I pass along the following information. Grandmother Feazel ceased living some days ago, peacefully, in her sleep. At her bedside was her son Philip, Sarah, and Nancy Ann, as well as Joseph in your stead, Samuel. Joseph related that earlier that day she had visited the family's graves, leaving flowers. She complained of fatigue, then went to sleep, never to arise. She was buried next to her husband and Samuel's mother. She did not suffer. Mr. Fabray and Peyton fashioned a beautiful grave marker for her as Philip's grief was too much. We send our love to Samuel._

Quinn paused then, taking Sam's hand. He had remained stoic as she read the sad news to him. "I'm so sorry, Sam."

He nodded, smiling a bit. "She lived a good long life. I'm fortunate to have spent some time with her recently. Continue reading..."

She squeezed his hand and looked back toward the letter and took a deep breath.

_Everything else is very much the same here. We miss you both terribly. We received word from the Harters in Indiana. They are eagerly awaiting your arrival. David Harter says there is a great amount of work to be done where they are, building a road._

_Mr. Fabray and myself are getting along as best possible. Father took with a cough for several days, then it took me down, but we are both recovering now._

_Please send word to us when you arrive at the Palmers. We anxiously wait to hear from you._

_With all our love,_  
><em>Thomas and Miranda Fabray<em>

Sam and Quinn sat quietly on the bed while she folded the letter carefully.

"I'm glad to hear Joseph took my advice," Sam said, finally breaking the silence. Quinn looked at quizzically.

"About Nancy Ann...I told him to court her," Sam told her. Quinn smiled at him, her matchmaking husband.

"She is a nice girl. I hope it works out for them," she said, standing and tucking the letter in with their belongings.

He stood up, as well, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to him. "Happy birthday, dear Quinn." He kissed her softly.

She smiled. She turned 18 years old that day. "Thank you, Sam. It shall be a great day!"

"It shall be. Are you ready to start this day?"

"I am," she replied, holding her hand out to him. He took her hand and followed her downstairs to begin their day.

_xxxxx_

Sam worked outside most of the day with Jon Palmer. Quinn helped with household chores and with watching the two small boys. She also spent an inordinate amount of time holding Charlie until Sam went to work and then the dog followed him.

"How did you sleep last night?" America asked her once breakfast was cleaned up. They were working on scrubbing clothes in a wash basin; America washing, Quinn rinsing.

"I don't think it would be possible to sleep better than what I did last night," Quinn laughed. "I needed that rest."

They were hanging the damp clothes on the clothesline when Quinn remembered the letter. "My parents send their love. They remembered you in the letter to Sam and me."

"I always liked your mother; she was like my older sister in those days. I remember when she was expecting you," America told her.

Quinn was interested by this. "You knew her then?"

America nodded. "I did. I was sent out by my mother to help at your house. Your mother was busy, of course, with Peyton, but she was always so...serene...when she carried you. She knew you were going to be a girl also."

"She knew?"

"She said she had a feeling and when you were born everyone expected a girl and there you were...such happiness then," America recalled. "I attended your birth, helping your grandmother."

"She never really said anything about me being born," Quinn said. They were now in America's garden, pulling weeds.

"She knew what to expect and I think it helped that her mother delivered her," America told her. "Granny Palmer is good at what she does."

"I'm glad that she'll be delivering me, then," Quinn said. "We lost our first one."

America looked at her sadly. "That's never easy. My sister has lost a child, as well."

"It was hard, to leave him in Virginia," Quinn mumbled. She stood upright and sighed. "I sure could use some shade!"

"Me too!" They gathered up William who had been running circles around them and joined Stith where America had laid him in the shade nearby.

"If you sit here with the baby, I'll run and get us some lemonade," America offered.

Quinn nodded. In the short time she and Sam had been there, she had already grown attached to the two young boys. Quinn picked up the baby and cradled him in her arms. She watched William chase a cat. She couldn't wait to have a brood of her own.

America returned with a couple cups of lemonade. "If you'd rather have cool water, I could pump some from the well."

"This will be fine," Quinn said.

"The menfolk will be returning soon for lunch. Your husband looks quite like a mountain man with his full beard," America laughed. "You should shave him this eve."

Quinn laughed too. Sam's beard was getting out of control since they'd been traveling. She'd often see him scratching at it, but he always told her he didn't mind it. She liked the scratchiness of it when they were close and it'd tickle her cheek but she was yearning to see him clean-shaven now.

"I just might do that," she said, sipping her lemonade.

_xxxxx_

"Lean back and relax," Quinn told him. Getting shaved always made him nervous, even if it was Quinn doing the job. Just the thought of the usually dull blade so close to his neck made him jittery. He swallowed thickly and leaned back like she asked, resting his head on a quilt she had folded up for him. She worked the hot lather up, then gently applied it to his thick beard. He closed his eyes and before he knew it she was moving the blade quickly but smoothly through his beard. When she got to his neck, though, she slowed down and was very careful. Lastly, she shaved his mustache away. She handed him a warm towel to clean his face. His skin looked pink and raw from where she had shaved him and he now looked like a boy again. She sat on his knee and stroked his smooth cheek.

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" she asked him, smiling, then biting her lip a little.

He shook his head _no_. He wasn't sure what was going on. They were in the Palmer's barn, alone. All the farm animals were out to pasture. The sun setting in the west sent an occasional stream of light through the slats.

She ran her hand through his shaggy hair, brushing it back from his face. He gazed up at her, his lips falling open unconsciously, his tongue snaking across them. She leaned into him then and kissed him, hungrily. His lips had been pink, inviting, shiny and she couldn't wait any longer. She had to have her mouth on his.

He was a bit shocked at her aggressiveness. She was gripping his shoulders, her chest heaving against his, pressing her breasts into him. Her tongue was dancing over his lips, sometimes sucking at his lip. He felt himself growing hard beneath her. It had been some time since they had been together. Once his initial shock wore off, he responded to her, lifting her up off his lap and turning her to face him. She was writhing against him at that point, feeling his length between her legs. He knew she was bare underneath her dress and shift, so he reached between them and unfastened his trousers, running his hand down over his cock, pulling the foreskin up and over the sensitive head, then back down.

"Now Sam," she whispered to him. He pushed her dress up to her hips, then let her take him in her hand and guide his cock into her. She wasted no time in doing so. She wanted him and wanted him badly.

He pushed up into her heat, and a moan escaped him. He kept his hands on her hips to keep her dress out of the way and also to move her on him. She was actively participating though, moving herself up and down his shaft quickly, whimpering into his neck. She pushed up from his shoulder and kissed him again, hard, and rested her forehead against his as they moved together.

"Sam, I needed you..." she whispered to him, her lips nearly touching his as she spoke.

He was distracted by the pleasure racing through his body and couldn't compose a coherent thought if his life depended on it. All he could focus on at the moment was her breath on his mouth, the sweep of her hair across his face, the smell between them of their bodies.

She closed her eyes tightly, her body tensing up. "Ohhh Sam..._harder_..."

He did as she said and thrust up into her as hard and as fast as he could until she groaned and her muscles clenched all around him and her movements became long and slow up and down on him. It nearly drove him mad, going from fast and hard to slow long strokes, knowing she had climaxed and he was still teetering on the edge. She felt him still moving in and out of her, in a jerking fashion, and she braced herself on his shoulders to watch him. She had recovered somewhat from her orgasm and began moving with him again, fast, knowing he needed to find his release now.

She watched him; he kept his eyes on her. He wanted - _needed_- fast and hard now. He had never felt so rigid inside her. She watched his lips quiver, his tongue dart in and out now and again. She moved closer and closer to his face until their lips were nearly touching. She was pretty sure at the rate he was thrusting into her then she might fly off of him and land on a bale of hay so she gripped his shoulders tightly and slowly touched her lips to his. He couldn't even kiss her back, the feeling was so overwhelming to him.

"Now Sam..." she whispered against his lips. That tiny movement of her lips on his caused him to lose all control he had. He orgasmed into her strongly in what seemed to be a copious amount. At the moment he came, he grabbed the back of her neck and pressed her entire body against his, moaning into her mouth.

His moans finally became whimpers, then whispers as he rested his head against her breast. His hips slowed down also. They were both coated in each other's fluids between them and the heat from the mid August day had each of them sweaty. He felt her hand on his bare cheek and reached up to place his hand on hers.

He looked at her finally. "I don't know what to say...I'm at a loss for words..."

"Then don't say anything at all...just hold me for a few more moments..."

He did that until they decided the heat was too much; they straightened their clothes and gathered the shaving apparatus and went to find the Palmers to find out where they could go swimming. Before leaving the barn though, Quinn stood on her tiptoes and kissed Sam again, her knees weak from their lovemaking.

"I love you, husband," she said quietly, leading him out of the barn. His eyes twinkled in the afternoon sunlight and he smiled lopsidedly.

_xxxxx_

Jon and America Palmer loaded up their wagon with their children, Sam, Quinn, and Charlie and drove down the road to the property of the parents of America's brother-in-law, Jonas Stith, her twin sister Amanda's husband. His parents had a nice swimming hole, the Palmers told Sam and Quinn, and they wanted to swim also. There, many of the Stiths and their extended family and friends were swimming.

Jon introduced Sam and Quinn to everyone but there was no way to remember all the names. They were a very friendly, happy bunch, Quinn noticed, and again she felt at home there just like she did at Jon and America's. Amanda, America's twin sister, was identical. Thankfully, they were wearing different dresses; that was the only way Quinn could tell them apart. And, as the evening wore on, she saw why people considered Amanda 'a pistol'. While swimming, she was dunking the menfolk quite effectively and tossing the young children here and there to their delight.

After introductions, Sam stripped off his shirt and handed it to Quinn. America took her hand and the two little boys and they stripped out of their dresses in a grove of trees where there were dresses lying everywhere. Quinn put Sam's shirt on as she didn't want to swim in front of strangers in just her shift, but America didn't. Quinn figured the people there were America's family so she was used to it.

Quinn joined Sam in the large lake amongst all the other swimmers, men, women, and children. All the ladies, it seemed, were just in their shifts and all the men bare-chested. Quinn was pretty sure she had never seen so much bare skin in all her life. Sam was clearly enjoying it by the way he was smiling, though his eyes were always on her.

The water felt wonderful to them, cool and refreshing and cleansing. At one point, Sam sneaked up behind Quinn.

"What happened in the barn today?" he asked her quietly, his lips brushing her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her waist under the water, his hands interlaced over her flat belly.

She giggled. "Something very special…"

"Mhmm…" He kissed her quickly on the cheek before diving into the water and splashing around some more.

Later, everyone was out, drying off on the grass surrounding the body of water. The ladies redressed right away and tended to the children and began preparing the supper meal. America had brought two apple pies that she and Quinn had baked earlier that day. The men continued to rest next to the lake, talking crops and hunting and political goings-on in Louisville. Quinn tried to help serve the food, but all the smells finally got to her and she ran off to vomit in private. She had felt fine all day, even in the smelly barn with Sam earlier, but then it hit her again. She rejoined the ladies, found some water, and continued her duties for as long as she could. It wasn't long, though, until she found herself exhausted and sat down. America had told the other ladies about Quinn's condition, which excused her from anymore chores for the evening.

As night fell, the men started a bonfire, and the women put the children to bed in the wagons. Someone began playing a fiddle, and there was singing and dancing, Amanda among the vocalists with a very clear and strong beautiful voice. Quinn was enjoying sitting a distance from the crowd, listening and watching. Sam sought her out finally after realizing he hadn't seen her in some time. He knelt before her to be on eye-level.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn…I didn't know you weren't feeling well," he said quietly.

"It's fine Sam…I feel much better now," she replied.

"We can go back to the Palmers…it's a short walk…if you're tired," he offered, standing and taking her hand.

"I suppose I could use the rest," she agreed.

They bid their farewells and headed back to the Palmer's farm, walking hand-in-hand, Charlie running up ahead of them.

"It's such a nice evening…it's been a lovely day," she said to him. "A perfect birthday."

"I agree…it's nice to have a bit of a break," he said. "You are the loveliest 18-year-old I've ever laid eyes on."

She smiled in the darkness. "Thank you, Samuel." After walking in silence for a bit, she said, "I need to write back home…"

"Yes…"

They were quiet for the rest of the walk. At the Palmer's home, they did a few chores, then retired upstairs, both silently thanking God for having a bed to sleep in. They stripped out of their still-damp clothes, slipped on clean dry clothing, and climbed into the bed, curling up next to one another.

Silently, he held her, neither one falling asleep.

"Do you worry?" he finally asked her. This thought had been on his mind since learning she was indeed pregnant again. He had worried she wouldn't be able to carry the pregnancy.

"I try not to…" she answered. "Whatever happens will be God's will. We've always known that."

"It'd be so difficult…if it happened again…"

She curled into him more, as close to him as she could be. "I know it'd be hard…if it happened again. This is our second miracle, though, and that's how I'll continue to think of this baby, just as Samuel was our first miracle."

The mention of his first son's name caused Sam to wrinkle his brow in thought. He liked the way of her thinking though, considering their children miracles. _His very own miracle_. He hoped that that wasn't being selfish.

"I just want _you_ to be okay," he said quietly into her hair as she rested her head on his chest.

"I promise to always be okay for you, Samuel. Let's say a prayer before we sleep…for Grandmother Feazel, for our unborn child, for our Samuel…"

He closed his eyes and listened to her words, and they brought him peace. At the end of the prayer, he kissed her goodnight.

She felt secure in his arms but it took her some time to finally fall asleep.


	29. Welcome To Indiana

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 29-Welcome To Indiana**

**Brandenburg, Kentucky, August 1818**

**August 10, 1818**

For the next week, Sam and Quinn fell into a daily routine with the Palmers, taking advantage of the downtime from traveling. They decided to wait one week to see if any of their prior companions met them there to go together north into Indiana.

When Quinn wasn't working around the farm, she found time to paint. Sam had set up her easel in a shady area facing west. She'd take her paints there, plus an apple or two and a cup of lemonade, and paint and be alone with her thoughts. One evening, at sunset, the colors of the western sky inspired her, and she painted something for the Palmers.

She and Sam also sat down and wrote a return letter to Quinn's parents and one to Sam's father.

_Dear Father and Mother,_  
><em>We have received your letter at Uncle Jn Palmer's. We arrived here on Aug 8. Jn and Mrs. Palmer are very gracious hosts. We are enjoying our rest here before setting out for the northern wilderness of Indiana. We await our traveling companions to join us. The Palmers have two young boys, Wm and Stith, who are very happy souls.<em>

_Your letter brought us joy and sorrow. We were so sad to hear about Grandmother Feazel's passing and Father's and Mother's illness. We hope this letter finds you all in good humor. We miss you all dearly. I especially miss rocking Jimmy, and I very much wish to meet baby Hudson Fabray. I am so excited for Kate! Please keep us posted! Tell the boys to bring their lady friends lots of flowers...girls love flowers. Sam is very pleased to hear about the success of the furniture venture._

_The town of L'ville was bustling! So busy! Many shops and homes of all kinds. The river is like a city in and of itself. The ride to Jn Palmer's on a flatboat was interesting. Jn has been showing Samuel how to operate such a boat! There are steam boats on the river, as well. When we leave for Indiana, we will be taken back to L'ville on a steam boat._

_Our news: We have taken in a dog on our journey. His name is Charlie; he is small of stature but very protective of us. Sam had to swim in the Ohio R to rescue Charlie! Also, Sam and I are expecting a baby in March of the next year. I have been ill to my stomach and a bit fatigued but nothing else. We will hopefully be in Indiana soon to find our land and build a home well before winter sets in. I saw a nurse in L'ville who said I appeared healthy. Please keep us in your prayers._

_We have been told that once we cross over into Indiana finding a mail carrier might prove difficult. We will send word as soon as we're able._

_You remain ours with love, Quinn and Samuel Evans_

Sam then added a message for Joseph at the end of the letter.

_Joseph, Pleas put a white flower on my gr'mother's grave. I thank you kindley._

"She liked white flowers," he said to Quinn.

Quinn quietly folded the letter and sealed it with wax. On the front, she wrote _Mr. Thomas Fabray, Franklin County, Virginia_. She handed it to Sam who promised to take it into Brandenburg the next day to mail it.

He wrote the letter to his father.

_Dear Father and Jane,_  
><em>Quinn and I have made it to Kentuck in goode time. We met folks along the way and also found a dog that Quinn named Charley. He saved my life from a mad wolf attack so I am indebbted to him. Quinn fell ill after we passed through the mtns, so we rushed to get to L'ville to see a fine doctor. It turns out she is with child yet again. Please keep us in your prayers. We think of you all often and hope this finds you all as well as you culd be. We keep young Amos in our prayers also. We are staying at Jn Palmer's for just a few more days, then shall begin our jurney into Indyana. Will write from there once we find a post.<em>

_With love, Samuel B and Quinn A Evans_

_xxxxx_

**August 12, 1818**

Sam and Quinn were sitting with the Palmers, enjoying the sunset after a busy day of work, watching young William chase Charlie around the yard. Quinn was quite happy at the Palmers, sitting outside looking at the gently rolling countryside, the breeze mussing her hair every once in awhile. They all heard the rumble of wagons from the road, along with voices that seemed to be hollering.

Sam and Jon went to the front of the house to investigate and returned with Noah and Sugar Puckerman and Artie and Rachel Abrams. Quinn couldn't believe her eyes. She jumped and ran to the girls and hugged them. She pulled them over to America to make introductions.

"America Palmer, this is Mrs. Noah Puckerman, or Sugar, and Mrs. Arthur Abrams, or Rachel. We met them on the trail through the mountains. I can't believe they made it here!" Quinn hugged them again. This meant they'd be traveling through Indiana with them and not alone.

"Pleased to meet you both! Friends of the Evans' are friends of ours. There is room in the loft if you don't mind sharing with Sam and Quinn," America told them.

"We don't mind! They can even have the bed!" Quinn said, excitedly. Sam overheard her and wondered if she'd lost her mind. He was talking to Noah and Artie about the continuation of their travel, how they liked Louisville, where the others had gone, et cetera.

Sugar and Rachel tried to dissuade Quinn from giving up the bed but were unsuccessful. The rest of the introductions were made, and the men went to take care of the two other wagons and teams. America and Quinn put together some food for their guests. Noah, Sugar, Artie, and Rachel took their meals outside to continue talking with the Palmers and Evans. Once the two young boys had fallen asleep, Jon pulled out a jug of what he called 'moonshine'. He said it was a sour mash whiskey, that his brother-in-law had a still across the road. When he helped make the moonshine, Jonas Stith paid him in moonshine, which was completely fine with Jon.

Jon also had three tin cups in his hand and sloshed the whiskey into them. He then balanced the jug on his arm and lifted it to his mouth, chugging the noxious fluid down. From where Quinn sat, next to Sam, she could smell it and her stomach flip-flopped. Sam took the tin cup and brought it to his nose. He had drunk refined whiskey before but never whiskey from a backwoods still. The smell of it caused him to squeeze his eyes shut and wince, quickly regaining his normal look in front of the other men. He knew he was going to have to drink it in front of them or be laughed at. He watched Noah and Artie throw back their cups in the firelight. He glanced at Quinn; her eyes were wide open. He took a very deep breath, then threw the nasty drink down his throat...as much as possible. He heard Noah and Artie coughing and sputtering, then Artie tossed the rest of his into the fire causing a large flame to ignite and disappear. Sam tossed the rest of his drink over his shoulder in the dark. The shot he _had_ drunk nearly made him vomit but he had managed to stave that off. Jon thought this was funny and poured the three men more in their cups. Again, Quinn eyed Sam with her wide eyes, but he wouldn't look back at her. When he saw the other three men toss back their heads, he tossed his drink over his shoulder again...making Quinn giggle quietly.

"Noah, let me try your drink," Sugar asked him. She was sitting on his lap. Everyone stopped talking and stared at them.

"This drink ain't fit for the ladyfolk," Jon said, chuckling and swigging more down.

"Is that so?" she said, taking Noah's tin cup and holding it out to Jon. "Fill me up!"

Jon looked to Noah who shrugged. The rest of the group was quiet, watching Sugar's reaction. Jon poured a bit into the tin cup, and Sugar immediately drank it.

She smacked her lips together, ran her tongue over her lips, didn't look fazed at all. In fact, she held the tin cup up to Jon for some more.

It continued in this manner until Noah was lying on the ground, muttering to himself; Sugar still sitting in her seat, staring at the waning fire, looking bored; Quinn sitting next to Sam who was acting drunk; Artie and Rachel kissing, as well as Jon and America doing the same. Finally, the men decided to get Noah up off the ground, but Sugar said to just leave him lie. She said he'd probably wind up losing his supper and she didn't want him in the Palmer's house when he did. The others retreated to the house. They decided among themselves that Quinn, Sugar, and Rachel would share the bed while Sam and Artie slept on the floor.

The girls prepared a sleeping area for the men with quilts and pillows and then the three of them squeezed into the bed. The girls whispered and giggled into the night, especially at Sam and Artie's snoring.

"Guess what?" Quinn whispered.

"Hmm?" Rachel mumbled, half asleep.

"I'm with child!"

Rachel and Sugar were both suddenly awake, hugging Quinn between them.

"Is that why you were sickly?" Sugar asked her.

Quinn nodded. "And still am. That drink tonight smelled _awful_! How did you swallow it down?"

"It was a lot like something my mother gave us for sore throats," she said, giggling. "It reminded me of medicine."

"Are you excited?" Rachel asked her.

"A little, I guess," Quinn replied. "Worried about traveling again."

"Don't you worry a bit! We'll be with you! We'll take care of you!" Sugar said, hugging her again, then lying back down and promptly snoring.

Rachel and Quinn giggled at that. "I guess the _medicine_ finally took hold of her!"

They lay back against their pillows.

"I'm so happy that I'll have you girls with me," Quinn whispered in the darkness.

"Goodnight, dear Quinn," Rachel whispered back.

_xxxxx_

The next morning, they found Noah propped up against a tree near where he had passed out. He sat there motionless as they approached.

"Good day, Mr. Puckerman!" Jon yelled at him.

Noah grabbed the sides of his head and moaned. "Not so loud…" he whispered in a very harsh voice.

"We brought you something for your head, Noah," Sugar said, handing him a cup. He squinted and peaked inside, taking a sniff, screwing up his face.

"What is it?"

"Bicarb and apple cider vinegar…the rest of us have had ours and feel refined," she said. "Besides, you need to build up your strength. We leave tomorrow for Indiana."

He groaned and swigged back the concoction.

_xxxxx_

They spent that day preparing their wagons to continue their journey. Sugar and Rachel had told Quinn that Sugar's parents and brother and Santana and Brittany were in Louisville and all quite taken with the town. They said Mr. Motta had missed a city and so had Mrs. Motta and they were considering staying there. Santana and Brittany still planned to move farther west. Noah, Sugar, Artie, and Rachel had stayed in Louisville for a couple days before finding the Evans so they felt well rested and were excited about seeing the land of Indiana.

There were the daily chores to be done, as well as washing their clothes, re-packing the wagon, and going over the wagon one final time to make sure it was ready for travel. The neighborhood surrounding the Palmers, their friends and family who had been swimming with Sam and Quinn, presented the travelers with foodstuff from their own supplies. The ladies of the group also gave Quinn a tiny baby quilt. They said it was an extra one, but Quinn could tell it had just been stitched. It brought tears to her eyes and made the pregnancy feel very real to her.

At supper with the Palmers that evening, Quinn gave them her painting. She had painted a picture of their homestead, their home and outbuildings, with the beautiful sunset she had witnessed as the background, purples, pinks, and blues. She included abstract figures for Jon, America, William, and Stith. America said she was very pleased with it and propped it up on the fireplace mantel. Jon surreptitiously gave Sam, Noah, and Artie each a pint-sized bottle of the moonshine for when "the going on the road got rough," he said, chuckling.

Jon started another bonfire and they sat outside watching the stars come out. Quinn held young William on her lap, rocking him. Sam sat next to them, playing with her braid every once in awhile. She'd glance over at him and smile, the firelight dancing on her face. He decided that when they slept that night they'd be sleeping together.

_xxxxx_

They agreed to let Sam and Quinn have the bed for the final night since she was the only one expectant. The other two couples spread their bedding out far apart from one another in all corners of the loft. Sam crawled into bed quietly and eased himself behind Quinn, nuzzling at her neck. They had the two windows of the loft open and heard far-off thunder rumbling. She pressed against him, enjoying his hands roaming over her body. The breeze picked up and the thunder got closer. Lightning was streaking through the sky now and again.

She felt Sam's hand caressing her thigh, then moving her shift upward. She could feel his hardness between them...he could never hide that from her...he had been lightly pressing against her for some time. Once he had her shift moved up, his hand dipped to her front side, to between her legs. Her breath caught when his finger slid between her folds.

When he felt the wetness on his skin, he held his breath. He wasn't sure why he was doing this, knowing others were nearby, but he had to have her. Something about the way she looked at him after supper, drove him mad with desire. Now, he was rigid in his trousers, she was wet and seemingly ready for him. She had reached behind her and grabbed his hip, pulling him against her. He moved his hand away from her heat, up over her bare hip, to between them to unfasten his trousers. The storm was moving closer, judging by the lightning and thunder. Soon, the rain would pour and the storm would be directly overhead.

She felt him unfastening his pants between them, then pushing them down his hips. She readjusted herself, wanting to feel him against her.

He felt the cool skin of her buttock rub against his hot member and groaned a bit into her neck. He could feel her moving her hips to line up with him and then the tip of his cock brushed against her wetness. There was a crash of thunder that scared them all and he instinctively pushed into her, causing her to gasp. He held her hip against him.

"Are you okay?" he whispered behind her.

She nodded and placed her hand on his on her hip. They heard sprinkles of rain, then a deluge poured down. The storm was upon them.

Sam began moving as quietly as possible against Quinn. He kept his lips at her neck to muffle his moans. His hot breath at the nape of her neck sent shivers through her body. She felt him kissing her, whispering incoherently, rocking against her. The storm was raging outside and he let himself be somewhat more vocal. His fingers were pressing into her flesh and his movements were becoming erratic, quicker. The angle from which he entered her was different to him and the feeling was making him lose control.

She heard him whispering her name in her ear, felt his thrusting intensify, then he groaned and held her against him. She could feel his release as it happened. He continued to grunt through the thrusts when he came, slow, deep thrusts. He was so thankful that storm blew up to mask any noise from their lovemaking. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her, his cock limp and shocked by the coolness of the room. He gently tugged her shift back down over her hip. She rolled over to face him. His chest was still heaving from their coupling. She kissed him deeply and whispered she loved him. He let her tuck his penis back inside his trousers and refasten them.

"I love you," he whispered to her, wrapping themselves together to get comfortable for sleep. They both were soon fast asleep, relaxed in each other's arms.

_xxxxx_

**August 14, 1818 Leaving for Indiana**

The rooster crowed and caused the stirring of the six adults in the loft. Sam and Quinn untangled themselves from one another, quietly laughing about it. The mood of the morning was happy, even though Quinn was a bit sad to be leaving her uncle's home. She had grown attached to their young sons and even America and a tiny part of her wished Sam's letter about his land grant included Kentucky. She would've stayed there at the drop of a hat. However, the letter stated land in Indiana or Illinois, so they prepared to set out for Indiana that morning. She was excited to be reunited with her aunt and grandmother, as well, so she had that to look forward to.

Breakfast was prepared by the women while the men lined up the wagons and made all final adjustments. Charlie could sense the excitement in the air and was excited himself. Sam even passed the dog a bit of bacon during breakfast. After breakfast cleanup, it was time to say goodbye. Quinn was holding baby Stith and didn't want to give him back. She did, reluctantly, then hugged William.

"Thank you so much for having us stay, America. It has been a joy meeting you and spending time here," Quinn said, tearing up. "I hope we weren't too much trouble."

America hugged her. "No trouble at all! We loved having you! Maybe we'll come visit you when you're settled in the land of the Indian...to see your new baby. Write to us when you get to where you're going." Quinn hugged her uncle, and Sam shook his hand, thanking him for the whiskey that he had no intention of ever drinking.

They climbed up onto their wagon and set off for Brandenburg proper to find a steamboat to take them upriver to Indiana.

_xxxxx_

Quinn liked the steamboat even more than the flatboat. This vessel moved swiftly up river using steam power. She sat at the bow with Sam, holding Charlie on her lap. They were lucky enough to have caught the _Belle of Louisville_ making a stop. She was empty so Sam, Noah, and Artie commissioned her to haul all of them up river to the dock on the north side of the river across from Louisville, a town called Jeffersonville.

They unloaded the horses and wagon in Jeffersonville and went to a nearby park to decide their next course of action. Jeffersonville wasn't quite as bustling as Louisville on the other side of the river, but it wasn't a sleepy town either. The three men discussed their travel.

"We'll be going a bit eastward, then northward...to Jefferson County, to Franklin County, to Wayne County, then to Henry County," Sam told them. "Quinn and I will be stopping in Henry County."

"We're in Clark County now, correct?" Artie asked. Sam nodded.

"So, we need to find our way to Jefferson...do we just follow the river?" Noah asked.

"I think that'd be best...should be trails of the red man we can follow," Sam answered. "In Jefferson County, we find Madison, then turn north."

They had been warned by Jon Palmer and Jonas Stith of the dangers in Indiana...no real roads to follow, just Indian traces; buffalo and bear and cougars; Indians; and thieves.

While in Jeffersonville, they stopped at the general store to replenish their ammunition. The man there pointed them in the direction of a town called Charlestown, then they were to swing east. After that, they were on their way.

_xxxxx_

The trail to Charlestown was well traveled. They could hear the river but not actually see it. It took them the day to reach Charlestown.

They made camp outside the small town and ate a light supper before trying to get some sleep. The sounds in the darkness were frightening to the women, keeping the men awake. There were sounds they'd never heard before, howling and growling, causing Charlie to sit next to Sam, fully alert, sometimes whimpering. In the morning, they all agreed that they had slept very little.

**August 15, 1818**

That day, they traveled to a town called Vesta. Other than for a trader's post, there was not much to the town. That night, the animal sounds kept them awake yet again. Sam insisted that Quinn sleep in the wagon while he and Charlie slept, or tried to sleep, outside. Thankfully, all they were experiencing were the sounds of the wild animals, never actually seeing one.

From Vesta, they headed toward Bethlehem, which was right on the Ohio River. They found a post office there, so Quinn dashed off a quick note to her family, letting them know they were in Indiana territory now. From Vesta, they were headed for Hanover.

Sometimes the path they followed led them right next to the water; sometimes, they couldn't even see the river. The trail they used was well traveled already but only wide enough for one wagon. Sometimes, there were clearings and sometimes the trees were dense. It was during those times that Quinn felt as if eyes were on her, watching them. The sway of the wagon didn't seem to be affecting her nausea as they traveled slowly, for which she was thankful.

Hanover was a pretty little town, right on the banks of the Ohio River. They stopped at the general store there for provisions and were told to go to Logan's Point. They did and had a spectacular view downriver. They had their supper there, then went back into Hanover to stay at an inn for the night. They stopped at a building that looked as if it didn't have a tavern attached, called the Parker Inn. Sam and the other two men went inside to procure rooms.

The man running the desk said he was the proprietor, a Dr. A. G. Parker.

He had two rooms available in the brick establishment, so the Puckermans and Abrams decided to share giving Sam and Quinn the smaller of the two rooms. In Sam and Quinn's room, there was a small bed and a chair. It felt more like a closet to Quinn. They lit a lamp to hang on the wall, and Quinn sat in the chair trying to catch up on her mending. Sam lay on the bed reading his mother's Bible. They had sneaked Charlie into their room, and he lay on the floor on the braided rug at the door. They could hear their traveling companions a few doors down, apparently enjoying the moonshine.

"Sounds as if they're having a jolly good time," Quinn said, giggling a bit.

Sam looked over at her. "It does sound that way. I'm having a perfect time with you."

"You wear your stockings clear through, husband," she said, laughing and holding up a sock of Sam's.

"It's hard work being a man, wife," he replied, setting the Bible down. "C'mere..."

"Sam...your socks..." she said, smiling slyly.

"My socks can wait...c'mere..." he asked again, his voice deep.

She gave him a sideways glance, him lying on his side on the bed facing her. She dropped the mending and went to him.

"We're close, aren't we, Sam?" she asked, curling up against his chest, listening to his heart beat.

Having her next to him relaxed him even further and he felt himself drifting off.

"Hmm?"

"Close to what will be ours, where we'll live forever..."

"Mhmm..."

Right before he fell into a deep sleep, he felt the weight of the dog jump up onto their bed, then all three of them were sleeping.

_xxxxx_

Sam woke up to Charlie licking his face.

"Ready to go out, boy?" he asked, sleepily, pulling himself up from the bed. He glanced at Quinn, still sleeping soundly. He reached out and touched her hair, then her cheek. He pulled on his boots and shirt and picked up the dog to go outside to relieve themselves in the early morning light. The sun had yet to crest the horizon to the east as Sam stood behind the inn peeing, Charlie had run off sniffing all the scents before finding the spot to do his business. _What had Quinn said to him last night?_ He had been so exhausted he was half-asleep when she crawled into bed with him. Something about they were close, close to it being theirs forever. He hoped her intuition was correct. He knew there was still quite a bit of travel and the travel would be difficult through heavily forested land as they moved northward away from the river.

Sam finished up, as did Charlie, and they returned to the inn. He went to the room of the Puckermans and Abrams and pounded on the door, laughing as he did so.

"Rise and shine, sleepyheads! Time to head out!" he called, walking back to his and Quinn's room.

"I heard you all the way in here, Samuel Evans!" Quinn said, laughing when he entered the room. She was up and gathering their few belongings in preparation to leave.

"I'm sure they'll all be in the bicarb today," he said, sitting down. "Next stop, Madison!"

_xxxxx_

Once their four friends stumbled out of the inn, squinting in the sunlight and complaining of head pain, they finally got on the road to Madison, Indiana, another river town fairly close to Hanover. The travel was short, and they were to Madison in time for their noon meal. There were many lookout spots on banks high above the river so they chose a shady spot and ate a quick lunch.

"My head feels awful," Rachel mumbled, lying on the grass.

"Why'd you drink the moonshine?" Quinn asked her.

"I thought it'd be fun..." Rachel groaned, clutching her head in her hands.

Noah and Artie were faring better than the ladies. Even Sugar was feeling the effects of the whiskey that day.

"It's so hot here..." she said, fanning herself. "And it smells like fish!"

"Did you all drink all your whiskey?" Sam asked. He was sitting next to Quinn, his knees propped up with elbows resting on them, munching on an apple.

Artie grunted what sounded like _yeah_.

"No wonder y'all feel awful," Sam said, chuckling. "Do you think you can watch the wagons? Quinn and I were going to walk into town; she needs to buy a spool of thread."

Noah muttered a reply, and Sam and Quinn took that as a _yes_ so they got up and walked into Madison proper with Charlie leading the way.

There was a mix of brick and wood frame buildings, one or two of the smooth gray stone. Sam handed Quinn two dollars and left her at a shop of notions, and he went to the feed store to place an order to be picked up when they left town.

Quinn wasn't sure what a notions shop was, but the picture showed a needle and thread and that's what she needed. A tiny bell rung when she pushed open the door.

"Could you just prop that door open, honey?" a voice asked Quinn. She had no idea where it came from. It was hot in the tiny structure with a fire going in the fireplace. There was a back door already propped open. Quinn looked around the dirt floor for something to use to hold the heavy door open, saw a large rock and used it.

There was now a nice breeze flowing through the room and more light. Quinn looked around her, amazed by all the colors she was seeing. She was used to yellow thread and white thread if made at home. Sometimes, her father would bring back colored thread from his travels, but that was a rarity and usually only black. She stood in front of a wall of shelves filled with every color imaginable. There was also different sewing and quilting instruments and stacks of materials.

"Whatchya lookin' for, honey?" There was that voice again. This time, it came from Quinn's right. She looked over and saw counter there but no person.

"I'm down here!" the voice said again, cackling with laughter. Quinn's gaze followed the voice downward and there she saw the woman. She was a tiny lady, older, and sitting in a wheeled chair.

"I-I'm sorry, ma'am, I-I didn't..." Quinn stammered.

"Tis fine, darlin'! When I'm in this dagblasted chair no one can see me!" The fact that the little old lady had basically swore out loud in a public place shocked Quinn. "You've come lookin' for notions?"

Quinn then noticed that the lady was little because she was missing most of her bottom half. She pushed herself around the little store with ease, straightening items as she went along.

"Whew...this heat has been awful this summer...makes for a bad winter, they say," she said, going to the door to catch a breeze.

"Did you do all these threads yourself?" Quinn asked her. "The colors..."

The upper lefthand corner of the shelf began with a white spool of thread, continuing to the lower righthand corner with black thread, and every color imaginable in between, it seemed to Quinn.

"One of the red men's wives...Light Feather, I believe she's called...she taught me how to dye the thread all those purty colors," the lady told Quinn.

"You're on friendly terms with the Indians, then?" Quinn asked her.

"Ayuh…they have shown us a lot in this wilderness," the lady said.

Quinn couldn't help staring at the woman's half frame.

"You wonderin' where the rest of me is?" the old lady laughed. "A falling tree accident when I was nigh on 4 years old. Said it was a miracle that I survived."

Quinn wasn't sure what to say. "I-I'm sorry…"

"Oh now, don't be sorry! I've made it this long, nearly 50 more years! Have three lovely daughters and two strapping sons…"

A look of shock must've crossed Quinn's face.

"Those parts still work, deary. Now, what are you lookin' for?"

"Um, uh, thread ma'am," Quinn stammered.

The lady wheeled right up next to Quinn. Quinn then noticed she had a long stick-like device lying across her lap. The lady used it to pluck a spool of thread from the shelves, held it out to Quinn, and dropped it in her hand. A spool of pink thread.

"You'll need this for your new baby," the lady said. She then plucked a spool of black thread from the shelves. "And this for your husband's stockings."

Quinn looked down at her surprised, then at the pink thread, then back to the woman.

"How did you-?"

"You just have a sense about you…I think you're carrying a girl-child," the lady said. "The spools are 25 cents apiece, darling."

Sam had given her two dollar bills. She bought the two spools of thread and two new needles, totaling 35 cents altogether.

"When are you to be confined?" the lady asked Quinn.

"March of next year," she replied.

"Ah, well then, you might need something like this..." The lady spun around and sifted through the piles of material, finally pulling out a soft pale pink cottony fabric. "You'll need something warm to wrap the child in."

She handed it to Quinn and Quinn ran her fingers over the impossibly soft material. She handed it back to the woman.

"I'm so sorry...I don't have that kind of money...but thank you so much," Quinn said quietly.

"No, honey, I want you to have it..."

"I couldn't possibly..."

"Please, deary..." The old lady shoved the pink fabric at Quinn that time so Quinn took it. She handed the lady a one-dollar bill, thanked her again, and left quickly.

Out on the street, she looked up and down for any sign of Sam. She headed in the direction he had gone and found him talking to a couple men at the feed business, Charlie sitting at his feet.

"I'll be back in a bit, fellas," he said to the men and he turned to Quinn. "Hello, dear wife! Did you find some thread? I know how my stockings are." He laughed and made her smile.

"I did, Sam..._black_ thread even!" She chose not to show him the pink thread but told him of all the different colors. "The lady there, she wanted me to have this..." She showed him the fabric.

"Pink, eh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn nodded. "She thinks it's a girl."

They began walking back to their camp.

"I told her I didn't have enough money for the thread and the material, but she told me to take it," Quinn told him. She went on to tell him about the woman at the notions shop. "She said they're friendly with the Indians here, too."

"Sound like you met a very nice lady...we ought to take her some apples or something," Sam said as they arrived at their wagon. Quinn put the material, thread, and needles away.

"Maybe I'll pick some of these wildflowers and take them back to her?" Quinn said, glancing off at a field full of colorful flowers.

"That'd be nice," he agreed. While Quinn wandered off with Charlie to pick the flowers, Sam talked to Noah and Artie about where they were going next.

"The men at the feed store said Versailles is the next largest town but we'll pass through heavy forest before we get there," Sam said to them. He kept his voice low so Sugar and Rachel wouldn't overhear. "They said there are many red men in those forests, the Lenape."

"Do we have enough ammunition? Or should we stock up?" Artie asked.

"Quinn said the lady she spoke to in town said they are friendly with the Indians here, so we might not need our guns," Sam told them. "The Lenape are a peaceful people."

"I'd rather be safe than sorry, Sammy," Noah said. "C'mon Artie, let's go find the magazine."

Sam sighed. He decided against adding anymore ammunition to his stash. He also had his bow and arrow, if needed, and Quinn had her rifle. He just hoped that if they did meet Indians along the trail it didn't come to gunfire.

In the field full of flowers, Quinn picked out black-eyed Susans, white daisies, and a pink flower that was new to her. She put together a nice bouquet and turned to head back to the camp when movement caught her eye at the tree line of the field going into the forest. She stopped and looked. When she saw movement again, she realized it was two tan, black-haired children wearing colorful clothing, running off, giggling. She had just seen Indian children.

She hurried back to find Sugar and Rachel doing their chores at the wagon, preparing to travel again.

"Girls! Girls!" Quinn called, clutching her flowers.

"Oh, aren't those pretty?" Rachel said, taking the bouquet from Quinn since she was flailing her arms about.

"I just saw...Indian children! Over at the tree line! They were watching me pick the flowers!" Quinn said, excitedly.

"Did they speak to you?" Sugar asked, eyes wide.

"No...they just spied on me, then ran off giggling."

"The menfolk were talking, didn't think we could hear them," Sugar said. "About passing through Indian territory on our way to the next town."

"I spoke to a lady in town who said the red men here were peaceful and they learn from them," Quinn said.

"Noah and Artie went to town to buy more bullets..." Rachel told Quinn. Quinn looked at them for a moment, grabbed her flowers and then turned to find Sam at their wagon.

Sam was reloading their belongings in the wagon, securing them to the inside so they wouldn't be shaken all around on the rough trail.

"Sam?" Quinn asked him.

He turned and smiled at her. "Pretty flowers you've picked."

She glanced at them. "Yes, thank you. The girls just told me that Mr. Puckerman and Mr. Abrams have gone into town to buy more bullets because they fear the red man. Is this true?"

Sam crawled out to the end of the wagon and sat on the back door.

"Yep, it's true. I chose not to go. After what the men at the feed store told me about the red men and what you told me the lady at the shop said, I figured I wouldn't need my gun to talk to the Lenape."

He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Quinn, if there is any trouble with the Indians I'll try my best to talk to them in some fashion. My first...and only...concern is for you and my unborn child. Do you understand?" Sam told her.

She nodded. "I understand..."

She rode with Sam to pick up the feed order, then stopped at the notions shop with the flowers.

"For you, ma'am, thank you again for your generosity," Quinn told the lady, now sitting on a high stool at the counter.

"Oh, such a thoughtful gesture!" The lady hopped off the stool into her wheeled chair and went to the back of the shop and returned with a glass bottle filled with water. Quinn put the bouquet in the bottle and set it on her counter. She watched the lady use her arms to get back up on the stool.

"These have brightened my day, young miss," she said, smiling.

Quinn smiled and went back to the wagon, and she and Sam returned to camp to get ready to continue their travel.

Noah and Artie returned to camp, whooping and hollering and from what Quinn could tell they were already in their cups. She was resting in the shade with Charlie watching them dance a little jig with Sugar and Rachel while Sam made sure the wagon was ready to go.

"Y'all ready?" Sam called to them.

The other four hollered and ran to their wagons. Quinn stood up and let Charlie lead her to their wagon. She climbed up onto the bench next to Sam.

"I'm ready," she said to him. He smiled back at her.

He snapped the reins and they were off.

_xxxxx_

The trail was bumpy heading northward out of Madison. Their goal was to reach Versailles by nightfall, but they weren't sure that'd be possible. People they had talked to in Madison said the path going there wasn't the best, plus there was the heavy forest to drive through. Sam, Noah, and Artie had been warned repeatedly about the Lenape and thieves that might be hiding in wait for people such as themselves. It took 6 hours on the rough trail and they approached the edge of the forest, surrounding both sides of the path. Sam stopped his wagon. There was maybe 3 hours of sunlight left, and the men at the feed store said it'd take at least a quarter of a day to get past the forest, or another 6 hours of travel. He left his wagon to ask Noah and Artie what they thought, should they continue on, knowing they'd have to make camp at some point, or make camp there on the edge of the forest and continue through it the next day.

"Personally, I'd like to camp here tonight. With Quinn's delicate condition, I don't want to stop deep in the woods," Sam said.

Noah and Artie agreed, so the men pulled their wagons into a triangular shape off the path, near a stream. The women went about preparing supper and other chores while the men hunted the outskirts of the forest. Quinn started a fire to cook over while Sugar and Rachel prepared some vegetables. They were hoping the men would hunt down a rabbit for supper. They had everything finished, so they gathered dirty clothes to go to the stream to wash them quickly and bring some water back to their campsite.

The day was hot, so they stripped down to their shifts to wade in the cool water.

"What was that song your pa was singing, Sugar?" Quinn asked.

"He sings all kinds of songs...I like this one..." She started humming and it was the song Quinn remembered when they were in the mountains.

Sugar and Rachel started singing:

_Go to sleepy little baby..._  
><em>Go to sleepy little baby...<em>  
><em>Your momma's gone away and your daddy's gonna stay...<em>  
><em>Didn't leave nobody but the baby...<em>

Quinn joined in, mainly to cover up Sugar's atrocious singing voice:

_Go to sleepy little baby..._  
><em>Go to sleepy little baby...<em>  
><em>Everybody's gone in the cotton and corn...<em>  
><em>Didn't leave nobody but the baby...<em>

_You're a sweet little baby..._  
><em>You're a sweet little baby...<em>  
><em>Honey in the rock and the sugar don't stop...<em>  
><em>Gonna bring a bottle to the baby...<em>

The men returned to the campsite, each with a rabbit in hand. They began cleaning the hares and then heard the sweet melodic voices coming from nearby. They hung up the rabbit carcasses on a tree branch, hoping nothing would get to them, and followed the beckoning voices singing the lullaby.

_Don't you weep, pretty baby..._  
><em>Don't you weep, pretty baby...<em>  
><em>She's long gone with her red shoes on...<em>  
><em>Gonna need another loving baby...<em>

The girls continued their song, sitting in their shifts upon rocks in the cool creek, rinsing and wringing out their clothing, not realizing that Sam, Noah, and Artie were watching them from the trees. They each trained their eyes on their loved one, their voices joining together in a beautiful harmony. Watching Quinn, sitting on a rock, her shift soaked through, her legs spread to work the clothes in the water, the sun glistening off her, he felt a familiar tingling in his groin, then felt himself growing at just the thought of her. He pushed the heel of his palm against the front of his trousers so the other two wouldn't notice his predicament. He had heard her sing before, of course, but around him she was always reserved. Here, with the other two girls, she was putting more emotion into the lyrics, seemingly lost in them as she handled the wet clothes.

_Go to sleepy little baby..._  
><em>Go to sleepy little baby...<em>  
><em>You and me and the devil makes three...<em>  
><em>Don't need no other lovin' babe...<em>

_Go to sleepy little baby..._  
><em>Go to sleepy little baby...<em>  
><em>Come lay your bones on the alabaster stones...<em>  
><em>And be my everlovin' baby...<em>

Sam didn't know if it was the singing or all the bare skin or what but the song drew him to her. It must've been the same for Noah and Artie because they were in the same trancelike state he was in. He glanced over and saw Noah staring at Quinn. He slapped him up the back side of his head.

"Hey! What was that for?" Noah asked indignantly, rubbing his head.

"Don't need to be lookin' at my wife, Puckerman..."

"I _wasn't _looking at your wife, Evans! I was listening to the purest voice of them all...my Sugar! Have you ever heard anything so divine?" Noah said, grinning broadly.

Sam looked at him like he was mad. He was surely referring to Quinn's beautiful alto or even Rachel's sultry soprano. Sam turned his attention back to Quinn.

As the girls sang the last lines of the song, the men made their way slowly to the creek. Surprisingly, the girls broke into a fit of giggles when they finished singing and then realized Sam, Noah, and Artie had been watching them. They were shocked, somewhat by their singing so candidly but mostly by their state of undress. At the water's edge, the men took off their boots and waded into the shallow water. Sam sidled up to Quinn; he felt like he was being led to her by his rigid length between his legs.

She stood up as he approached, and he took her in his arms. "Sam..." she whispered at his display of affection in front of the others.

Kissing her on the neck, he whispered, "You should sing more often..." His lips slid up to her ear and his hand slid down low on her hip.

"Can you help me hang these wet clothes?" she asked him quietly.

"Mhmm..." They reluctantly broke their embrace, and he helped her hang up the wet clothes.

The six travelers retreated to their camp for the evening. After supper and some more singing, this time the men joining in as well, the Puckermans and Abrams' crawled into their tents. It was a clear warm evening, so Sam and Quinn set up their bedding away from the group a bit to sleep under the stars.

Sam talked Quinn into stripping down to her shift for the night; she knew his intentions. Since feeling him hard up against her at the creek earlier, she had definitely known what he had planned on doing that night.

He made love to her, slowly, under a million stars. He lay on top of her, kissing her mouth, nuzzling her neck, pressing into her so slowly, hearing her moan in his ear. She raised her hips to him, grabbed the back of her thighs when his thrusting became urgent. He grunted when he spilled into her, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him, kissing him under the stars. They finally pulled apart from one another, and she curled into his side after he whispered he loved her. They fell asleep easily, comfortable and happy and satisfied.

Sam heard a twig snap and it woke him. He opened his eyes and let them adjust to the still-dark morning. There were no more stars in the sky. He then realized he couldn't see the sky; it was being obscured. Quinn stirred next to him, pushing up on an elbow, mumbling _Sam?_

As quietly as he could, he shushed her and moved an arm over her, like he was trying to protect her. He sat up slowly, making sure she was behind him, he was her shield. They were surrounded by Indians.

**A/N: I borrowed the siren scene and song from _O Brother, Where Art Thou?_ with George Clooney. I love that scene in the movie and thought it'd be neat to have Quinn as Sam's siren here. Thanks as always for reading!**


	30. The Lenape

_**LEATHER AND LACE**_

**Chapter 30-The Lenape**

**A/N: See the end of the chapter for Lenape definitions. Also, inspiration hit me for this story so here's some new material after months and months (you might want to re-read the chapter before this to get an idea about where they're at and what they're doing).**

**August 17, 1818-Near Versailles, Indiana**

"Tukihëlakw!" one of the Indians barked at them.

Quinn slid up behind Sam to hide herself.

"Nuwi!" The Indian man pointed toward their wagons. One of the other men pointed his walking stick into Quinn's dress, lifted it, and chuckled with the other men. Quinn pulled herself closer to Sam. Sam yanked Quinn's dress from the walking stick, making the men chuckle more as they slowly made their way to the wagons.

She pulled her dress on quickly and him his shirt.

"Sam? What's going to happen?" she whispered.

"I dunno," he replied, keeping his eyes on the group of men, now standing around the campfire embers. "They've woken the others."

Quinn held Charlie in her arms, feeling the low growl in his belly at these strangers. The Puckermans and Abrams sat together outside their tents, surrounded by more of the red men.

"Petasuu?" the man who seemed to be the leader asked, pointing toward the path through the forest.

"We go that way," Sam answered, trying to understand their language.

The sun was beginning to crest the horizon and for the first time Quinn got a good look at the Indian men and they got a good look at her. She felt exposed in their gaze and tried not to look at their tan muscular bodies, painted in different colors; their long black hair; their black eyes boring holes into her, only a loin cloth covering what hung between their legs.

"We don't want no trouble here," Noah said, stepping up to the man who appeared to be in charge. The man looked him up and down.

"Nali!" the man barked in Noah's face, causing him to jump and Sugar to cling to his arm. The group of Indians began heading northward into the woods with a few selected to stay behind to make sure the travelers followed.

Sam and Quinn hurried to their wagon.

"Get in the back and make sure nothing has been taken," Sam whispered to Quinn. She did as she was told, dropping Charlie into the back first then climbing up there herself while Sam took his seat with the reins. She quickly checked their boxes and found their most prized possessions, their guns, and Sam's money. She crawled up behind the wagon seat and gripped his arm. Pulling herself up right behind him, her lips at his ear, she whispered, "What's going to happen?"

Sam followed the Indian guides slowly with the other two wagons following him and the other Indians behind them. For awhile, they stayed on the well-traveled path but eventually they diverted west, deeper into the forest.

"I don't know, Quinn..." he finally answered her. "They don't seem hostile."

"Everything is still here, Sam...nothing's been touched," she said to him quietly. Charlie whimpered at her side, so she lifted him over the wagon bench and set him down next to Sam. He nodded.

The path they took through the woods was barely noticeable to Sam and Quinn but well known to the Lenape. Sometimes, the passing was so tight the branches from the evergreens brushed alongside the canvas covering the wagon. They followed this path for some time until they were suddenly in a clearing.

There were several hut-like structures scattered about and several fires burning. One longhouse stood in the middle of the settlement, a trail of smoke emanating out of the middle. A handful of men and women and children were busy doing certain tasks, but, at the appearance of the strangers, they stopped what they were doing and stared. A white man working with younger men stepped forward. He spoke first with the Indians who led Sam and the others to their camp, then he stepped up to Sam's wagon.

"Welcome. I am John Conner, chieftain of the Wolf Clan." He gestured around himself at the camp. "My wife is Light Feather, hails from the Wolf Clan..."

Quinn's ears perked up at the mention of that name.

"You are passing through?" he asked Sam.

"Yessir, northward," Sam answered.

"This is my wife's clan; they chose me as their leader as I speak the language of the white man," John Conner told Sam. To Sam, John Conner looked younger than him with short jet black hair. "My mother is a Lenape woman, of the Turtle Clan."

In the back of the wagon, Quinn's stomach was reeling...from fright, anxiety, and the pungent odor of something cooking outside. She sat there, sweating, hoping the nausea would pass but it just kept getting worse. Finally, she couldn't take anymore of the highly disagreeable smell plus the smell of the horses, and she moved quickly to the back of the wagon and heaved. She could hear Noah and Sugar Puckerman groan in disgust and Rachel eke a noise of shock.

She was wiping off her face with her apron when the man named John Conner and Sam came around the side of the wagon to check on her.

"Do you need some water, Quinn?" Sam asked her, brushing her hair away from her face. She nodded.

John shouted some instructions to someone in the tribe, then to Quinn he asked if she was ill.

"My stomach is upset," she answered.

A young child ran back with a tin cup of water and handed it to Quinn. She looked at the child and recognized him from when she picked the wildflowers. She thanked him and sipped the water.

"Is your wife ill?" John asked Sam.

"She's with child," Sam answered quietly.

"She may rest here then before you travel farther," John told him. He went on to talk to Noah and Artie, then to some of the tribal women.

"How do you feel?" Sam asked Quinn, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"I was just scared, Sam, and my stomach..." she whimpered, embarrassed that she had vomited in front of the tribal leader.

A tall Indian woman with long black hair in a braid and deep brown eyes approached Sam and Quinn after speaking with John Conner.

"I am Light Feather, wife of John Conner. He said you are with child. _Nali_," she said, smiling and offering her hand to help Quinn down from the wagon. Quinn cast a nervous glance to Sam, but he nodded and she followed Light Feather. They collected Sugar and Rachel, and Light Feather took them to a nearby hut.

"This is called a _wigwam_; John Conner thought you could rest here," Light Feather said to Quinn.

The hut was thatch covered over flexible limbs for support. Two cots were set up in there, small tables next to them, and leather mats on the ground. There were two openings into the hut, creating a nice breeze through the wigwam. An older Lenape woman joined them.

"She's our medicine woman," Light Feather told Quinn and her friends. "Her English name is Whisper…she can help settle your stomach." To Sugar and Rachel, Light Feather directed them out of the wigwam to another area of the settlement to assist with chores.

"Mimëntët?" the older woman asked Quinn. Quinn smiled wanly, still feeling queasy. Whisper pointed to her own stomach, then rounded her arms over her abdomen as if she was heavily pregnant.

Quinn nodded.

Whisper carried with her a cored-out gourd and another tin cup. She poured some liquid into the cup and handed it to Quinn, along with hardtack.

"Mëne…" Whisper did drinking motions to Quinn.

Quinn sipped from the cup carefully and found the drink to be cool and sweet. She nibbled at the offered hardtack. The fluid made her suddenly sleepy, and she lay back on the cot. She was seeing double of the Indian woman. Whisper took the cup from Quinn and sat on one of the leather mats on the hut's dirt floor, watching over the sleeping Quinn.

While Quinn slept, Sam and the others helped around the camp with John Conner, learning from him about the land of Indiana. John Conner apologized to them about the shocking introduction that morning by the tribal warriors. He said they could never be sure about the intentions of white people moving through the area and that they only wished to protect their land and belongings. He pointed out the tall Lenape warrior who Sam had awakened to as Black Beaver, a trader and scout, for the tribe. Sam watched the young man, acting with bravado, around other young men of the tribe and catching the eye of most of the tribe's young women. Black Beaver had long straight black hair that shined in the sun, his muscles rippled as he went bare-chested. He only wore a loincloth and war paint.

Sam made his way toward the wigwam where Quinn had been taken when the sun was high in the sky and the camp was preparing a noontime meal. He found her sleeping soundly with the old Indian woman in attendance, watching over her quietly. When she saw Sam enter the hut, she scurried out quickly. He sat down next to the cot where Quinn slept. He brushed a few loose strands of hair away from her face, then kissed her on the cheek.

She stirred awake, her eyes slowly focusing on him. "Sam..." she said and smiled. She brought a hand up to his scruffy cheek and pushed to sit up.

"No..." he said, keeping her from sitting up. "Just rest. Did the medicine woman help you?"

"Mhmm..." Quinn murmured. When first looking up at him, she saw two of him wavering before her. She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on him better. "I feel much better and very rested. I need to get up to help the others."

"You can rest for now, Quinn Amelia," he told her. "Conner has asked us to stay a day or two, for you to regain your strength and to give us more information about traveling northward."

Quinn furrowed her brow. "Are you sure?" She lowered her voice. "Are we safe here?"

He kissed her on the forehead. "All is fine, my dear. You continue to rest. I'll check on you again soon."

He gave her another smile to reassure her, then stood and left the hut to find Conner and his men. Whisper returned as soon as Sam left and offered Quinn another cupful of the cool drink. Before Quinn knew it, her mind was swimming, her eyes were heavy, and she was again asleep.

_xxxxx_

During that day, Sam, Noah, and Artie spent much time with John Conner, talking about the land of Indiana that Conner was familiar with. A few years previous, he had laid out a town north and east of the camp, now called Connersville, and gave the men directions to get there, even writing down lodging where they could stay. Sam noticed the camp had a need for tables, as they were using makeshift surfaces to work and eat on, so he pulled his own table from his wagon, dismantled it, and showed the Lenape how to put together a simple table. They seemed intrigued by this, matching pieces of wood together to create a functional piece of furniture. Sam did the same thing with one of their chairs. The Lenape showed Sam that they could make their own nails, but he had to show them how to lathe a slab of wood down to prepare it to be used, to make the surface as smooth as possible to avoid splinters. The Indians also examined the rear axle of Sam's wagon and determined a way to repair it; they assured him it would at least make it to Connersville. They checked Artie and Noah's wagons, as well, and did some work on the wagon Noah had bought while in Brandenburg, Kentucky.

John Conner told Sam that that evening they were having red meat to eat, that Whisper had told him Quinn needed red meat because she was so pale. Sam nodded, not really understanding what that meant. He did, however, feel they were safe at this camp, after the initial shock of meeting Black Beaver that morning. Conner also informed Sam, Noah, and Artie that, as their guests, they would be participating in a ceremony after eating their evening meal, a ceremony that symbolized peace between the red and white men.

As the evening wound down, Quinn awoke and joined Sugar and Rachel in helping with the chores that the Lenape women were doing, though they relegated Quinn to entertaining the young Lenape children. She asked Sam to retrieve her easel and paints and she showed the children some of her paintings. They were enthralled with it, so she let them each paint something also. She also pulled Light Feather aside and showed her the pink spool of thread.

"A lady in Madison gave this to me...said I'd be having a girl-child and that you taught her how to dye the thread all those colors," Quinn said. "Is it true? Can she tell the babe's gender?"

Light Feather took the spool of thread and rolled it around in her hand and smiled. "You've met Mary, I see. She is not often mistaken." She handed the spool of thread back to Quinn. Quinn tucked it in her apron pocket, then placed her hands on her still flat belly and smiled.

_xxxxx_

"How do you feel, wife?" Sam came up from behind and asked her. She was bouncing a baby on her knee at the time, making the child giggle. The child's mother saw Sam approach Quinn and came and whisked the child away from Quinn so she could speak with her husband.

Quinn turned and looked up at him from her seated position. "I feel so much better, Samuel."

He offered her his hand and helped her up, resting his hands on her hips. She slid her hands up his bare forearms, now tan, the golden hair shining. His long fingers pressed into her hips slightly as her hands moved up to his biceps; his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She lingered there and then let her hands rest on his shoulders.

"Good...you look better too. Conner said they're fryin' up red meat, especially for you, because his wife said you looked pale. Then, they're doing a peace ceremony that me, Noah, and Artie have to participate in."

"A peace ceremony?"

He nodded and shrugged. "He asked if we'd be a part of it, and I couldn't say no after what they've done for you. He said it stands for peace between the red man and white man."

She smiled. "Very true. I am indebted to them for their help."

That evening, they ate a meal of venison and fried potatoes and carrots and then a dish of berries with a crumb topping. Quinn sat with Sugar and Rachel, letting the huge meal digest, when Whisper brought her another cup of the cool liquid.

"Ku may kawi..." Whisper urged the cup at Quinn. Quinn didn't want to drink it and nod off and miss the ceremony. She sniffed it and it did smell a bit different so she went ahead and sipped it down.

After the generous meal, Sam, Noah, and Artie followed John Conner to the longhouse to prepare for the ceremony. Arranged on a table were three loincloths and war paint. Black Beaver and two of his charges stood guard.

"Black Beaver and his men will get you three ready," John Conner told them.

"Wait...this is what we'll be wearing?" Artie asked, picking up the very small piece of animal hide.

John Conner looked at him solemnly. "It's part of the ceremony, so yes, that is the customary garb."

Black Beaver snickered at the three white men. John Conner looked at him sharply.

"Wènchahki," Conner said to Black Beaver, gesturing toward the white men. Conner left the longhouse to make preparations for the ceremony.

_xxxxx_

In the middle of the camp, Quinn, Sugar, and Rachel were given seats in the middle of the tribe to watch the ceremony take place. There was a large fire burning and a bench with three leather mats for the white men to sit upon and three seats to each side of the bench (one to the left, one to the right, and one across the fire). One man came to the seat across from the bench. He had a drum of sorts and began pounding out some melody and singing in the Lenape language. Then, Black Beaver appeared and took the seat to the right of the bench and finally John Conner appeared and took the final single seat.

Quinn couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Sam, Noah, and Artie appear from the longhouse. Dressed in nothing but loincloths and war paint, they made their way to the bonfire and stood before the bench. Quinn wasn't sure if it was the heat of the mid August evening or whatever she had been drinking to calm her stomach but seeing Sam nearly naked in front of nearly fifty strangers was making her feel tingly. He, of course, looked mortified, as did Artie. Noah seemed to be enjoying it, smiling widely and nearly strutting.

Sam's face was painted with black swirls, then colors of red, blue, green, and yellow down his arms and chest to the edge of the loincloth. Quinn could tell the small piece of clothing was being held just above where his thicker hair grew. He looked at her, completely embarrassed. She then realized that there was very little covering his backside. The young Lenape women who stood behind him were giggling and pointing at the three white men.

John Conner stood finally and all the whispers and tittering stopped. He began to speak.

"Nchutièstuk!" he began, gesturing to his tribe. Then, to the white men, he said, "Friends."

"We are gathered to celebrate a _witisëwakàn_, or friendship, with our white man neighbors and their families." He looked to Quinn, Sugar, and Rachel and smiled. He then repeated his statement in Lenape.

"We seek to live side by side with the white man in _wëlànkuntëwakàn_, peace, and learn from one another and share the abundance of this fertile land." He again repeated this in Lenape.

"We wish the Evans, Puckermans, and Abrams families good and safe travels and many happy days henceforth!" He repeated this in Lenape and a great cheer went up among the Indians. John Conner then looked to the man to his left.

"Nëpèhta hupotàm!" Conner announced.

This man procured an intricately carved pipe and lit it from the fire before them. He inhaled a great amount, then passed it to his left, to Black Beaver. Black Beaver did the same, inhaling for a long amount of time. He then passed it to Sam.

Sam inhaled just like the Lenape men. Quinn could tell his eyes were watering, but he didn't cough or choke. He passed it to Artie, then to Noah, and finally to John Conner.

"Tënàxën witisëwakàn!" Conner proclaimed. Looking at the white men, he repeated in English, "Strong friendship."

The tribe surrounding the fire broke into celebration. Cups of strong alcohol-laden liquid were passed around, as well as more peace pipes. The smoke from the fire, the closeness of the crowd, made Quinn feel queasy so she took her seat as she had been standing. Most of the men of the tribe were surrounding Sam, Artie, and Noah. Then, through the haze, Quinn noticed that the young women of the tribe were also moving in very closely to the men.

_xxxxx_

Sam was beyond mortified by leaving the longhouse in nothing but the small piece of leather that was his loincloth. He checked multiple times to make sure his cock wasn't dangling out. There was a very thin strip of hide hanging down his backside but his ass was plainly visible. Artie was just as mortified, but Noah was thoroughly enjoying being on display.

Black Beaver and his men painted the white men with swirls, dots, and stripes. They rubbed some kind of oil through Sam's hair to make it stand up wildly.

Sam saw Quinn's jaw drop when she first laid eyes on him. Once her initial shock wore off, though, her glances to him were more of a sexual nature, he could tell. The peace pipe came his way; he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. The smoke emanating from the pipe was pungent yet sweet. He inhaled like the Lenape men and held it in his lungs as they did before exhaling. It was then that he felt the effects of whatever he had smoked.

From across the fire, he saw two Quinns...two of everything, it seemed. He looked over at Artie but it felt like it took him forever to turn his head to the left. Artie was giggling like a schoolgirl. He then realized hands, hands all over his body, running through his hair, up and down his arms and back and chest and belly, even his legs...so many black-haired girls all around him, murmuring, whispering, touching him...their voices and breath getting closer and closer to his naked skin...it was when one young girl stood up and began to straddle him that he saw a flash of blonde...blonde hair...running...running away...

_xxxxx_

Quinn watched it all from her seat...Sam slowly falling under the influence of whatever he had smoked, all the young, nearly naked girls with long raven colored hair, swarming about him, touching him, giggling to one another, moving in so very close to him, their lips nearly touching him, then a young girl moving to sit upon his lap, facing him, her hands creeping down his belly to his loincloth. She ran from the scene, not able to watch it anymore.

Quinn ran into the forest surrounding the camp, to get away from the heat of the fire, the acrid smell of the pipe, the young Lenape women's voices, the thrumming of the drum. She stopped at a large oak to catch her breath when she could no longer hear the drum.

She heard footsteps behind her. She sucked in her breath, preparing to confront whoever had followed her.

Before she could speak, though, strong hands grabbed her hips, then hot breath was on her neck. The man's hands snaked around her front side and began groping her breasts.

"I want you," Sam growled from behind her.

Quinn chanced a glance over her shoulder at him and was surprised to realize she liked what she saw. He was animalistic in appearance...his hair mussed up, his eyes wild, even the smell coming off him made her aware that he was going to have her. She caught his eye and saw recognition there. He slowed down his actions and awkwardly ran his hands over her hair.

"You're so beautiful, Quinn...I must have you..." he whispered against her neck and his passion returned.

She gripped the tree to support herself and felt his hands drop to her hips again. This time, though, he pulled her skirt up roughly, quickly. She heard the rip of fabric, but he didn't stop. She was now exposed to him. He tore the loincloth from himself, dropping it at their feet. He then pulled her hips to him urgently, his cock sinking into her fast and hard. The shock of it caused her to cry out into the night.

He grunted loudly and kept pressing into her. Regaining some of his cognition, he slowed down and propped his chin on her shoulder.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked her.

His entry, though rough, had not hurt her, surprised her, but she was ready for him, even then. She shook her head and moved her hips back to him.

He gripped her bare hips and slammed himself into her repeatedly, their skin slapping together in the quiet of the forest. She felt his mouth on the back of her neck and shoulders, sometimes one of his hands would slip up to a breast and squeeze.

"Umm, so wet Quinn..." he mumbled. He picked up in intensity, pushing into her hard and grunting with each thrust.

She knew he had reached his climax when he pulled her against him and held her there; she could feel him expelling his fluid into her.

"Oh, oh, _damn_!" he huffed out, resuming the thrusting a bit. He suddenly pulled out of her and stumbled up against the tree upon which she leaned.

"I think I need to lay down," he said in a deep whisper, resting his head on his arm.

She let her skirt fall down and picked up the loincloth from the ground. She took his arm and led him back toward their wagon, bypassing the revelers at the bonfire. At their wagon, though, he stopped and retched. She stood behind him, stroking his back, until he was finished. She then took his arm and helped him into the wagon. He lay down on the sleep pallet she usually used, and she covered him with a quilt after sliding his trousers on him.

He looked at her, his pupils dilated, a worried expression covering his face. "Quinn? Is that you? What happened to me?"

She brushed his sweaty hair back from his face and told him it was her. "I need to get some cool water; you're burning up."

She made sure he was situated and ventured back out of the wagon, taking Charlie with her. There were things going on around the bonfire that she wished she had never seen. Carnal pleasures of the flesh between two women, two men, sometimes a group of them. She couldn't see Sugar, Artie, or Rachel, but Noah was in the middle of a bevy of dark-haired beauties, oblivious to his surroundings apparently. She made her way to a small creek where she had worked earlier in the day and wet a couple rags to take back to Sam.

"C'mon, Charlie, let's hasten this task," she said, hurrying back to the wagon.

In the wagon, Sam was on his side, moaning. She placed a cool rag on his face, cleaning off the war paint.

"Oh, Quinn, Quinn, that feels so good...I feel awful...what happened? I smoked that pipe...I can't think..." he mumbled to her.

"Just try to rest, Sam...we'll talk in the morning," she said quietly.

"Are you okay? Did someone..._get at you_?" he asked, pushing up on an elbow. She could tell that whatever he had smoked was wearing off.

"No, Samuel, no, I'm fine...let's just try to sleep," she said, gently pushing him back down. He made room for her, and she lay down next to him.

"I just feel so...so awful, Quinn. The last thing I remember was taking the pipe from Black Beaver..." His voice trailed off. "And then I was puking..."

She lay on her side, rubbing his face with the cool rag until he drifted off to sleep.

_xxxxx_

She awoke to the sound of him vomiting again outside the wagon. The night was still dark but the celebrating had quieted down. He climbed back into the wagon and sat on his knees next to her. He nudged her a bit.

"Quinn?" he whispered. "I remember it all...I'm so sorry for what you had to see and what I did."

She lightly touched his arm and smiled a little.

"It was what was expected of you, Sam. It had to be done. Let's just never talk of it again."

He looked at her for a moment before speaking. "When I awoke and all of it came back to me, it made me ill. As soon as the sun is up, we are leaving."

She nodded, happy to hear those words, that they were moving on. She wasn't sure she could face some people in the morning after witnessing what she had the night before. He lay back down next to her and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry, Quinn Amelia..." he whispered as she dozed.

Later that morning, again before she awoke, he entered into his journal:

_Aug 17, '18 Staid at Lenni camp. Smoked peece pipe with them and a wite man by name of Connor. Made my mind fitful, never to do that agin._

**Tukihëlakw= "You-all wake up!"  
>Nuwi= "Come here!"<br>Petasuu= "You are going this way?"  
>Nali= "Come after me."<br>Mimëntët= "baby"  
>Mëne= "drink"<br>Ku may kawi= "no sleep"  
>Wènchahki= "get them ready"<br>Nëpèhta hupotàm= "Let's smoke!"**


End file.
